Trust n Time
by FatesMistake
Summary: Harry is faced in his 6th year with normality. New friends, new teacher, and a new appreciation for the complexity of adolescence...Can he learn the life lessons of Trust and Time in time to find true love? Mild swearing. Partly inspired by a picture on DeviantArt by Firedea, the cover image.
1. Chapter 1

~Thunk-shhh…thunk-shhh~

Harry limped down the dark and silent corridor, doing his best to hide his grimace of pain every time he dragged his abused leg. The muscle was still too damaged to afford long intervals of use, and he'd been walking for at least two, possibly three, hours. He sat in a window alcove to give the battered limb a rest.

"Stupid moving staircases," He muttered, rubbing his linen-wrapped calf. He leaned against the wall of the alcove, dragging his leg up to rest properly, and put his forehead to the cool glass of the window. "I'm so tired…" He felt himself start to doze and decided to let it happen. His leg hurt too much to let him really sleep, and usually gave him a smart wake-up every few hours anyway.

The leg was a temporary souvenir of the final fight against Voldemort. Albus had instructed Harry to stay back, but Harry had other ideas when Snakeface started in with the glass. This was _his_ fight, literally, and he knew that with every fiber of his being. In his darker moments he could even admit to having known it before, deep down, without even knowing about the prophecy. So he'd finally managed to do what Snape had tried so hard to teach him. It happened by accident, or at least that's what he told himself. Just all of a sudden, his mind was utterly devoid of thought. He stepped in-between the Headmaster and the shards of glass, then cast the most powerful _Protego_ he could. The sharp instruments had bounced off of it, some of the larger pieces shattering further. That was what had damaged his leg. One of the last pieces hit just as he let his shield fall and had shattered, a piece bouncing off the ministry flagstone and tearing a gash in the side of his calf.

When he hit his knees, the Headmaster had done the only thing he could and cast a basic healing charm on his leg to stem the flow of blood. Voldemort was in Harry's head by that point, being shown all the love Harry could pull from his memories. Apparently, his cleared mind had allowed for a sort of reverse Legilimency, because after the memories of his friends, and Sirius, and everything else, he was pulling forth images of James and Lily staring down at him as a baby. Dumbledore thought the flood of contradicting emotions associated with the memories, namely anger at James, sorrow for the loss of them both, and the unadulterated love of a child was what broke Voldemort's mind. The Dark Lord had been a vegetable by the time the Minister and his entourage had shown up. After some debate, they had used a long-since forgotten curse to block the evil creature's magic entirely, in case he recovered before they found out how to destroy him. All of this was just story to Harry, though. After Voldemort had fallen dumb, Harry had fallen comatose from the blood loss and shock. In his months out of commission Dumbledore had finished off the Wizarding World's big baddy, and they'd discovered that the old coots healing charm had cauterized his muscles while they were still ripped. Harry had awoken when they gave him a potion Snape invented specifically for re-growing muscles. It had hurt like a bastard.

Harry had managed to come out of his coma in time to start his Sixth Year, but the first month of it had been spent in the Hospital Wing doing the theoretical work for his classes while his leg regenerated. He'd taken Snape up on the oddly generous offer to continue Potions, though he wasn't sure why. He definitely didn't want to be an Auror anymore, not since he no longer needed the extra training. Hermione had brought him a spare Potions book from the classroom until he had time to order a new one. That was how he'd discovered the Half-Blood Prince. Hermione had been angry at first, saying it was a form of cheating, and a number of other paranoid things, but Harry had shown the book to McGonagall during one of her visits to the Hospital Wing. The professor had been surprised to see it, said she didn't think the previous owner would've left it lying around, but that in her professional opinion there was nothing wrong with using the notes in the book. That had cooled Hermione down, but McGonagall's warning against some of the spells the Prince invented (_"Some of those even the Prince was afraid of after he tested them. I don't think he was always sure what the non-specific Latin would do.")_ had made Harry rethink his smug look at finally being right. McGonagall had, of course, refused to reveal the original owner of the book, though, and Hermione's research had turned up nothing of use, as there hadn't been anyone named Prince at the school since before the books publishing date. The closest was an Eileen Prince, but she had graduated some 20 years before the book came out brand new.

"Harry," A soft voice whispered, rousing the boy. Harry opened his eyes and winced, unable to see anything behind the spots created by the severe pain in his leg, which had cramped up. "What're you doing in this corridor? It's been in disuse for years." The voice said. Harry thought it sounded familiar, but the whisper made it hard to tell.

"I got lost…the moving staircases…" Harry muttered through clenched teeth.

"I should get you to Madame Pomfrey," The voice said. Harry felt arms start to pick him up.

"No," He said sharply. The arms stopped. "She just released me, if she knew I had pushed myself like this, accident or not, she'd put me back in a bed until my physical therapy is done in six weeks. Please, don't take me back."

A hand rubbed his shoulder in sympathy. Obviously, the voice belonged to someone who had suffered the over-bearing Matron's wrath. After a minute, whoever it was grabbed his hand and put a potion vial in it. "Drink this."

Harry pushed the vial back towards the hand. "I can't take pain relievers, Madame Pomfrey said pain relievers and sleep potions might set back my recovery because of the muscle relaxant in them."

"This one is different, it doesn't relieve the pain, only tricks your mind into thinking it isn't there so the pain can recede naturally. Take it, Harry, I can't carry you when you're tensed-up," The voice instructed.

Giving in, Harry swallowed down the potion, tasting the unmistakable bitterness of aspirin fresh from the bark of a willow tree. He felt suddenly very woozy as the potion started to kick in sooner than most did. "W-what's in that besides aspirin? I feel drowsy, but the pain is gone. How'd it kick in so fast?"

The Voice chuckled. "That's the leaves from a special breed of sentient fern. It allows the potion to work almost immediately, but is only useful in a very small amount of Potions because of the drowsiness it causes. Can you sit up?"

Harry shuddered as his body tried to make sense of the sudden lack of conscious pain, then sat up. His spinning head made him lean back against the glass of the window, and he felt that if he opened his eyes he'd vomit from all the spinning. "You kinda remind me of the Half-Blood Prince," He mumbled. He felt a sudden presence between his splayed legs as the voice grabbed his arms. "S'best I can do, my head's spinning too much to stay upright."

"It'll do, Harry. Lean forward against my back and wrap your arms around my shoulders as best you can." Harry did as he was told and leaned forward, raising his arms to wrap around the Voice's slim but broad shoulders. He gripped his wrist firmly as the Voice wrapped his arms around Harry's thighs. "Hold tight. I can't levitate you without jostling your leg, so I have to carry you."

Harry nodded against the bony shoulder blades of his rescuer and felt his backside leave the stone of the windowsill. He was shifted slightly as the Voice leaned forward. "Are you my Prince?" He asked, half-delirious. He hugged the man's shoulders, gripping his own elbows so he was sure he wouldn't slip. He drifted off before he heard any answer beyond a soft, baritone chuckle that rumbled against his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry woke up the next morning in his bed in Gryffindor tower. His first thought was that he had been reading too much of the Prince's notes and was now having strange dreams about the mysterious character. The pain in his leg made him second-guess that thought, it felt like he'd walked for miles. The excitement over the realization that this would be his first day actually attending class made him forget about it entirely, though. He dressed, feeling slightly stupid as he slipped only one sneaker on, and went down to the common room.

"Oh, Harry, you're up!" Hermione squeaked from one of the armchairs by the fire.

Harry looked at her strangely. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Ron got up from the couch and shrugged. "We weren't sure how late you'd been out, Mate, because we had patrol duty until midnight and you weren't here when we left at 9. Madame Pomfrey said she'd released you at 8 to come directly here, and Neville claims that you still weren't when he went to sleep at half -past ten. Where'd you go? I hope you weren't walking on your leg all that time."

Harry shrugged. "I got lost on the moving staircases and wound up wandering in an abandoned part of the castle, trying to find my way to something I recognized. I was rescued by an unknown someone and I guess they carried me back."

"You guess?" Ron repeated doubtfully.

"Well, yeah…like I said, I got lost. I must've walked for hours before who ever it was found me in an alcove where I'd stopped to rest. By that point I was in so much pain that my brain was fuzzy. I don't know who it was, and I thought I'd dreamed about the Half-Blood Prince, since they gave me a potion that I'd read about in the Prince's notes. From what you said, I wasn't dreaming and I _did _get carried back," Harry told them.

"Harry James, you know what Madame Pomfrey said about putting to much stress on your leg! What were you doing wandering the castle, why didn't you just go back to the stairs?" Hermione demanded crossly.

Harry glared at her. "It's not like I got lost on purpose, 'Mione. I started to walk down the corridor, since we know damn near every one and how to get anywhere from wherever we are in the castle. When I realized I was in an unfamiliar part of the castle I turned to go back to the stairs and they were gone. There was only a solid wall in place of the door. And yes, I checked for illusions, it was a solid wall. The person who found me must've been a teacher, 'cause I tried everything short of blowing the wall up and it wouldn't move."

"Geez, 'Mione, give the guy a break, he obviously had a rough time of it," Seamus said, coming down from the sixth year dorms. "I could hear you harping on him from upstairs. Just because you're too perfect to ever get lost doesn't mean us mortals can't. I've been stuck in that corridor before and I had to be rescued by a Seventh Year who'd done it themselves. McGonagall said it had been a prank set by Slytherin for Gryffindor back when they were running the school. It'll let you in, but you have to find the hidden passage to get back out, otherwise it goes on forever, creating turns so you don't realize you're in the same corridor. She also said at least one student every week gets trapped in there, so step off the soap box, it's too early for your yowling." The Scottish boy came over and gripped Harry's hand in greeting. "It's good to see you out of the Hospital Wing, Harry."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I'm glad to be out and back in real classes. I have to take that potion Snape made for me every day so I don't burn my leg out, and I still have to go back for two hours every Wednesday and Saturday for physical therapy, but I think that's a fair trade-off after two months of doing nothing but theory homework from a hospital bed."

Seamus nodded. "Sounds like it to me. See you guys at breakfast." He left the common room with a wave.

Harry looked at Hermione, who was pouting in her armchair. "Don't be like that, Hermione. You know he was right. You were being really unfair towards me, and a little insensitive to the spot I was in last night."

Ron nodded. "Harry's right. He could've been trapped there for days if who ever it was hadn't found him and brought him here."

After a moment the girl nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, Harry, I shouldn't have jumped on you like that, I know you wouldn't be so irresponsible as to push your leg past its' limits on purpose unless you were in some sort of trouble." She got up from the chair and came over to wrap him in a hug. "Forgive me? I've been so worried about you."

Harry hugged her back, then shrugged when she pulled away. "As long as you don't jump on me for real, I don't think my leg could handle the added weight just yet." He chuckled as Hermione slapped his arm playfully. "Come on, let's get down to breakfast before Dean wakes up and sucks the whole spread into his black hole of a stomach."

The three of them left for the Great Hall after summoning their bags from their respective dorms. As they walked down the corridors, Hermione was the first to break their comfortable silence.

"Do you really think it was the Half-Blood Prince who rescued you?"

Harry rubbed the back of his head as he limped along. "I dunno…I mean, it could've been, if it was a teacher, but for all I know he published some of his inventions. I mean, Seamus said himself that he was rescued by a Seventh Year who'd been trapped before, and if the Head Boy or one of the Seventh Year prefects in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff knows to check that corridor then it could very well have been one of them. Maybe the person just _happened_ to have that potion on them. It was originally designed for chronic migraines, so it's possible the Prince had it published and one of the students has to take it regularly for headaches, right?"

Hermione agreed reluctantly. "I suppose you're right. Still, it's kind of exciting to think your idol might be in the castle right now, huh? Maybe you've been sitting in his or her class all these years without realizing the genius behind the 'boring teacher' façade."

Harry frowned. "He's not my idol, I just respect the Prince a lot. I mean, if you met someone ten times smarter than you could ever hope to be, with a fantastic sense of humor, wouldn't you admire them a whole lot? And I doubt it matters, the person last night didn't seem to know who I was talking about when I mentioned the Prince."

Hermione seemed more disappointed by this than he was, probably because unsolvable mysteries didn't exist for her before the Half-Blood Prince came along. "Well, in any case, if your rescuer was a teacher we'll know who in the next few days. You're bound to recognize the voice, even if you couldn't last night because of all the pain you were in."

"Yeah, maybe…I think I was in a kind of delirium, though, from the pain, then again from the potion, and besides that it isn't often that a teacher speaks soothingly and calls me by my first name, so we shouldn't hold our breath for anything conclusive," Harry told her as they reached the Great Hall. The three of them made their way to the Gryffindor table.

"So what'll you do if you do find out who it is?" Ron asked as they sat down and started to fill their plates. "I mean your rescuer, not the Prince. I'm pretty sure you'll fall to your knees to bask in the glory of the almighty Half-Blood Prince."

Harry rolled his eyes as his friends chuckled, including Ginny and Seamus, who agreed with 'Mione that he was a bit infatuated with a person he'd never even met. "Knock it off, guys. So I have a small crush on a person in a book. Can any of you say you haven't done the same? Ginny, I know for a fact that you had a thing for Mister Weatherbee in War and Peace."

"It was 'Mister Wickham', you ponce, and the book is Pride and Prejudice, as you well know," Ginny said, throwing a piece of toast at him. They'd both enjoyed the novel over the summer, but Harry liked to tease the girl by pretending he hadn't.

"Ew, you liked Wickham?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose. "He was such a prat, not to mention a sociopath and a liar." Ginny only shrugged.

"She liked how handsomely he was described, and thought it was kind of sweet that he was willing to marry Lydia after helping shame her family by running off with her, knowing that by rights he could've been challenged to a duel by anyone either in, or intimately associated with, the family. I think she just likes the idea of someone being so in love with her that they'd run off with her, risking everything, consequences be damned," Harry explained.

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "He only ran away with her because he knew he'd probably win the fight, being military trained, and because most of the shame would fall on her. And he only married her because Darcy put up a hefty dowry to make _Elizabeth _happy."

"Well who did you like, then?" Ginny demanded.

Hermione sniffed indignantly and refused to answer.

Harry leaned over his plate slightly and gestured for Ginny to lean forward conspiratorially. "She had a huge crush on Mr. Bingley. I saw her doodle his name all over her homework while I was in the infirmary, then she'd erase it before she thought anyone would see."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed with hurt pride.

"What? Serves you right for acting all high and mighty. Everyone gets a little bit of a crush on fictional characters sometimes. It's called fantasy, or imagination, and it keeps us sane here in the real world," Harry told her righteously.

Ron leaned around the girl who was pouting for the second time that morning. "Alright, mate, we get it, we'll stop teasing you as much about the Prince. Now seriously, what'll you do if you find out who your rescuer is?"

Ginny leaned forward interestedly. "Ooh, yeah! Seamus filled me in on what he heard earlier. You should totally do something special for them, since they carried you all the way to the Tower and stuff."

Harry frowned into his eggs and shrugged. "I dunno, guys…it's kind of shallow, but I'd rather just pretend it didn't happen, y'know? I feel really ridiculous about getting stuck in that stupid corridor, and since whoever-it-was didn't leave a note or anything I think they probably don't want to mention it either. I mean, what if it was just a good deed and they'd feel awkward if I did something in return, or they're embarrassed because they knew about the corridor from getting stuck themselves?" His friends all nodded thoughtfully except for Hermione.

"That's stupid, Harry. They probably didn't leave a note so you wouldn't feel obligated to thank them if you didn't remember who they were. I think that if you find out who it is, then maybe don't tell anyone in case they _are_ embarrassed, but send them a note of thanks. You don't have to send a gift or anything, but you should try to make the effort to send some sort of thank you," The know-it-all insisted.

Harry sighed. "I'll think about it, but I make no promises. Anyway, for all I know it could be a teacher I don't have, or a fellow student I don't know terribly well, so the point could be entirely moot. We'll see what happens if the opportunity arises, alright?"

Hermione frowned and furrowed her brow in discontent, but seemed to accept that that was as much as she would get from him. They all settled into soft conversation about their classes, enjoying their breakfast. Harry sat eating in silence, glad his leg had loosened up a little on the walk down, when suddenly a shadow fell over him.

"Potter."

Harry looked up and around to see Draco Malfoy standing behind him, slightly away from the table. "Malfoy," He greeted cautiously.

The Slytherin looked distinctly nervous as the surrounding Gryffindor's turned to look at him. "I-I wanted to thank you, for what you did for the Wizarding World, Potter, and to tell you that I'm glad you've made a full recovery. I also want to apologize for my father's role in the death of your godfather."

Harry cocked his head and lifted his eyebrow in confusion before deciding to simply accept what was happening and figure it out later. "No sweat, Malfoy, your Dad was only doing what he thought was right to protect you, there was no way he could've stopped Lestrange without blowing his cover, the same reason Snape couldn't be there at all, and while my leg isn't really fully recovered yet, I appreciate the sentiment." He turned slightly on the bench and extended his hand to the blonde. "Bygones, yeah?"

The Slytherin hesitated. "I should really turn you down after what you did on the train," He muttered.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't be a prat, Malfoy, you insulted my first friend. What was I supposed to do, throw you a parade? Just shake my hand, we'll figure out the awkward 'can we be friends' shit after I've got a proper amount of coffee in me."

Finally, the other boy took his hand and shook it firmly. "Hopefully, we can avoid the awkwardness altogether. I've also come over here in the hopes of putting family prejudice in the past where it belongs. What do you say, Weasley?"

Ron looked up from shoveling food into his mouth, then pointed to his sister. "She's the one with tabs on the people who hate us, and Mum's more likely to believe her if we tell her we're friends with a Malfoy, so speak to Ginny. As far as I'm concerned, you're still a ferret, but we all have to nickname our friends eventually anyway."

Malfoy looked at Ginny in confusion and the girl rolled her eyes at her brother. "It means he doesn't care one way or the other. If you really think you can be a nice guy, then I don't see why we can't be friends. But if you ever say that awful word to Hermione or anyone else I'll have the twins corner you in a dark alley with a box full of their more malicious and almost-deadly pranks, understood?" The blonde paled slightly but nodded, and Harry could feel him trying to pull his hand back. He tightened his grip.

"Are you alright with this, 'Mione?"

The brunette shrugged. "Sure, there's always room for one more in the group. Besides, he can make up for all the nasty things he's said or done to me by helping me study for my Mediwitch license this weekend. I'm taking the intern exam over the Holiday and I need to practice my scanning spells."

Harry looked back at the Slytherin. "Well, then there you have it. Hope you don't have any other plans for the weekend." He was surprised when the Slytherin grinned at Hermione.

"I look forward to it, Granger. We can start after breakfast on Saturday." Harry finally released the blonde's hand and the boy left with a final look at Hermione.

"I think Malfoy was hitting on you," Harry told the girl.

Hermione patted his arm. "Oh, Harry, you're so clueless sometimes. He's been hitting on me for years and trying to hide it in his snide remarks and mean pranks. Kind of like a little boy when he likes a girl in grade school."

Harry looked at Ginny, who nodded. "It's annoying, but cute in a way. Even the Slytherin girls noticed it around last year, that's why Pansy hasn't been hanging on him. They may not like it, but they know they don't have a chance until Hermione either turns him down or he gets over the infatuation. By demanding he apologize by way of helping her study some potentially dangerous spells, Hermione was testing his merit as a potential boyfriend. The fact that he didn't even think about the danger and was simply glad to spend time with her alone says he's got the good base materials." Hermione nodded in agreement as she pulled out a book to read.

The Boy-Who-Lived shook his head and shared a look with Ron in bewilderment of the way girls think and then returned to his breakfast.

SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHP

"Any ideas about your rescuer, yet, Harry?" Ron asked excitedly as they left Transfiguration.

The wizarding savior led his friends to a less crowded corridor and sat on a bench in a dark alcove. "Not really, and I told you that the likelihood of me knowing is slim. I was pretty out of it last night." He pulled a potion out of his bag and uncorked it. He swallowed it down and managed to keep a straight face as the vile taste washed over his tongue.

"What's that, Harry? I thought you already took your potion today." Hermione said, sitting next to him.

The Gryffindor pulled a clear flask of water out as he replaced the vial and drained some into his mouth gratefully. "I did. I found a crate of these on my bed when I went to switch out my books at lunch. Madame Pomfrey sent them up with a note saying I should take them whenever I'm in a lot of pain so I can still move around for classes; but only before dinner, or I risk damaging my leg by pushing it too hard. From the taste, I'd guess it's a modified version of the potion I took last night. It doesn't work as quickly, but I also don't feel like I'm going to pass out. Kind of proves my theory about the Prince publishing his work, yeah?"

Hermione looked at him doubtfully. "How so?"

"Well how else would Snape know the recipe to be able to modify it? And it was obviously him, because it's got the distinct taste of sandalwood, his signature ingredient," Harry said, nonplussed.

The girl only shook her head and muttered something about boys being clueless.

"What do you mean signature ingredient? I thought sandalwood was _just_ an ingredient, how can it be signature?" Ron asked.

Harry took another drink of water from the flask that Neville had given him and put it back in his bag. "Well, it is and it isn't, Ron. I found a list at the back of the book with all kinds of fairly universal ingredients, ones you can put into any potion, and it was entitled 'potential signatures'. I didn't really know what it meant, so one of the times Snape came up to restock the infirmary I asked him. Apparently, all Potion Master's have a signature ingredient they use in almost all of their potions. Snape uses sandalwood because it promotes a calming effect in the drinker. There's a 'Master Cho', in Japan, who apparently uses Jasmine in his potions, to induce a kind of sleepy-calm so he knows the recipients are getting enough bed rest for whatever ails them, but the patient can still function. At least, that's what the book Snape leant me said."

"Snape leant you a potions book?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"More importantly, you read a potions book that Snape leant you? For fun?" Ron added, looking slightly disturbed.

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up as he felt his potion start working. "It's not that big of a deal, guys. We had a chance to talk while I was bedridden and after I apologized for something stupid I did last year and thanked him for the potion he invented for my benefit, we kind of called a truce. I mean, yeah, he's getting new royalties for yet another invention, but the only reason he created it in the first place was to help me. I couldn't very well treat him like the enemy, now could I? Besides, he did call in the Order when he realized we had gone after Sirius ourselves."

"Wow, Harry, that's…I don't know what to say," Hermione muttered as they started towards the dungeons. "That's incredibly mature, Harry, I'm proud of you."

Harry chuckled and hugged the girl with one arm. "Well, you know, most of your perspective in a hospital bed is a blindingly white ceiling, but it can occasionally turn introspective if you lay there long enough and force yourself to stop thinking like a teenager with a bad case of the puberty monster. I put myself in his place, for just a moment, and felt like a right git immediately after. Ooh, look, there's Draco." He called out to the other boy. "Malfoy!"

The blonde Slytherin turned several feet ahead of them and waited as Harry limped ahead of his friends to catch up with him. "What's up, Potter?"

"Do you have last lessons notes? I borrowed Hermione's to do the homework, but I want to make sure I didn't mess it all up. Can I borrow your notes to make sure my research and stuff was on point?" The Gryffindor said as they continued down the hall with Ron and Hermione coming up from behind. The Slytherin looked utterly baffled and Harry chuckled. "I sort of got used to turning in work that got me an Exceeds Expectations while I was in the Hospital Wing, and I'd like to keep the trend going," He explained.

Malfoy nodded in sudden understanding and smirked. "Feels good to get good grades in all of your classes instead of just one, eh, Potter? Sure, you can borrow my notes. Sit next to me in class and I'll help you go over your homework with them before the lesson starts. I use shorthand, so they'll be impossible to read without my help."

Harry chuckled. "Alright, thanks, I appreciate the help," He said as Hermione and Ron finally caught up to them. The four students walked to the dungeons together in comfortable silence.

_~break~_

The door separating the Potions classroom and Snape's office opened just as Harry was rolling his homework back into its original, tidy scroll. After he'd finished placing it back in his bag, and while Snape was still writing the instructions on the board, he whispered to Malfoy. "Friday afternoon, yeah?"

Malfoy nodded. "Yeah, don't forget to bring your Defense notes." The other wizard whispered back. Snape cleared his throat and both boys looked up to see Snape staring at them with a raised eyebrow.

"Do I dare ask what mischief must be afoot for the Gryffindor Golden Brat and Slytherin Ice Prince to behave so amiably in my classroom?" The dour Potions Master growled suspiciously.

Harry blushed involuntarily. "Well, our behavior isn't confined to your classroom, if that helps. We were just finalizing our agreement to study together on Friday, sir. He's going to help me with writing evenly on parchment, since I've never gotten it, and I'm," He glanced at Draco, who was glancing at the Slytherins within earshot. "I'm going to show him some spells I learned while interred at the Hospital Wing."

Snape's eyebrow rose even further towards his hairline at the blatant lie, but he said nothing. The man turned back to the front of the room and started the lesson as Draco let out a sigh.

"You realize you'll have to teach me some new spells on top of helping me with Defense, right?" The boy whispered almost inaudibly.

Harry shrugged as they both pulled out materials to take their notes. "You can help me in this class, we'll call it even." Draco nodded and they both leant over their parchments as Snape moved into the lesson's lecture.

SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHP


	3. Chapter 3

"Potter."

Harry looked up from packing his things away as the class started to filter out.

"Remain," Was all Snape said from his desk as he tallied the names who'd turned in their potions.

Harry finished packing away his things and waved off his friends, slightly grateful for the reprieve on his leg. He'd wound up standing for most of the class before someone cast a spell on his stool to change the height, and his right ankle was a little cramped from trying to keep most of the weight off his left leg. He grinned as Draco patted his shoulder and rolled his eyes. It didn't escape Harry that being kept after class, despite the lack of incident, his first day back was just slightly ironic, and Draco seemed to have noticed as well. When the class had emptied entirely, Harry limped his way up to the teacher's desk to wait.

After a few moments, Snape closed his grade book and looked up at Harry imperiously. "I would like an explanation for you lying to my face, Mister Potter."

Harry ducked his head. "Er…well, out of respect to Draco, really. The truth is, he's been struggling a little in the NEWT Defense course. I haven't met him yet, and I hope you'll excuse my language, sir, but everyone says Professor Drake is a real ball-buster, worse than the fake Moody. I agreed to help Draco in Defense, since it sort of comes to me in an intuitive kind of way, and he really did agree to help me with the whole straight lines thing, since he knows some training spells I can use to help me adapt to the lack of lines on the paper. I figured I'm a NEWT student, so it's silly that I've still not mastered that particular skill. Except now, I'm also going to be teaching him new spells so the Slytherins don't get suspicious, and he's going to teach me the proper techniques behind the different ways to cut up ingredients."

Snape hummed thoughtfully, staring Harry down, and the younger wizard let the truth show in his eyes. After a moment, Snape nodded, but still said nothing. Harry shifted uncomfortably on his still-cramped right leg. Suddenly, it occurred to him that Snape saw everything that happened in his class, even if the man didn't always acknowledge it.

"Did…did you happen to see who it was that lengthened the legs on my stool?" Harry asked cautiously.

Snape nodded slowly. "I did that, actually. Your leg seemed to be suffering, as it is now."

Harry smiled. "Oh, well, thank you, sir. It really helped. Do you think you could teach me the spell?"

Snape quirked one side of his mouth in a half-smile. "Perhaps I could this evening when you return my book, if your leg is doing well enough to walk down after dinner. Otherwise, bring the book for your next Potions lesson. Go now, you are going to be late for your next class."

Harry blushed as he looked at his watch. "Shoot, you're right, and it's too early to take a potion for my cramped legs. Thank you, sir, for those potions, by the way, and again for the stool. I'll try and come down this evening if Professor Drake doesn't push my leg too hard." He turned and started limping towards the door hurriedly. Halfway down the aisle between the two-person desks he stumbled as his right calf finally Charlie-horsed from the pressure. "Christ and Merlin, and Gods of old, that fucking hurts," He moaned as he leaned against a desk. Snape was at his side in a moment, glaring at him.

"Stupid boy, you could have asked for a note and rested your leg for a moment if you were cramping this badly," The man muttered, pushing Harry to sit back on the student desk. He pulled a stool over and sat down while placing Harry's right leg in his lap. The Potions Master started to knead the muscle and Harry had to bite his lip to keep from screaming as the muscle started to relax involuntarily.

"I wasn't really thinking, sir, I haven't been concerned about my uninjured leg, though I realize now that I should've been," The younger wizard ground out.

Snape grabbed the sole of the boy's shoe at the toes. "Push against my hand."

Harry shook his head miserably, keeping his toes pointed. He got the idea that if he raised his foot into a proper angle it would tear the muscles. Snape gave him a look eerily similar to Madame Pomfrey, and Harry sighed, biting his lip as he straightened his foot out. It hurt worse than he'd thought, but the pain diffused almost immediately as he felt Snape's kneading fingers suffusing magic into the muscle of his calf. After a moment, the pain in his leg was gone entirely.

"Next time either of your legs cramp up, I want you to take a ten minute rest, at least, and a half dose of those potions you received this afternoon, understood?" Snape said, removing Harry's leg from his lap and brushing his robes as he stood.

Harry nodded. "Yes sir, I understand; this won't happen again. I appreciate your help, though, I haven't had a Charlie-horse since I was like six and that left my leg feeling bruised for days afterward."

Snape eyed him carefully. "I imagine it left some other areas bruised as well," He replied softly.

Harry nodded as he thought about the beating that particular game of Harry Hunting had ended with. "Yeah, but Piers had been strangely concerned about my calf, so he convinced the others not to kick it or anything. Still, the next couple of days I barely noticed the bruises because my calf hurt so bad." He grinned as Snape shook his head in exasperation and turned around to put the stool back. "I was six, I didn't know how to handle the whole Charlie-horse thing. Now I know to straighten my foot and massage my calf, lesson learned, right?"

"I suppose," Snape said, fetching a deep sigh.

Harry straightened up on the desk and grabbed the edge between his legs as he leaned forward. "Whoa, I haven't heard you sigh that hard since Madame Pomfrey told you half the school had Summer Colds and she was out of pepper-up. Is everything alright, sir?"

Snape turned slightly and gave Harry a small half-smile over his shoulder. "Everything's fine, Harry, I'm just a bit tired. McGonagall had me do her rounds last night because she had too many papers to grade. I'll write you a note so you can go to your next class. I hate to admit it, but your friends weren't too far off when they said Drake could be a bully. He's worse than I used to be, even to the other professor's."

Harry frowned at the change in subject, and the lie about rounds (McGonagall hadn't given out anything more than a couple quizzes that week, to all the years, so she could finish grading the summer papers), but decided not to comment on it. Snape was still a mostly closed-off person. Instead he grinned as he imagined their new professor. "Well, if he's doing anything practical today, maybe my tardiness will convince him that I need to be paired with the professor," He said, his grin turning slightly malicious as an evil glint entered his emerald orbs.

Snape smirked at him. "I would dearly love to see the result, Mister Potter, but I must ask on the Headmaster's behalf that you not hospitalize his new Defense instructor, or, in the unlikely situation he gets a lucky shot, re-hospitalize yourself." He walked back over from his desk and put a note in Harry's hand. "To help you in your pursuit to give Filmore his life lessons, though, I have recommended he keep a sharp eye on you in this note."

Harry pouted. "Aw, you didn't tell him anything bad about me did you? I wanted to be the one to ruin his idea of the wizarding savior myself," He whined slightly.

Snape shook his head in confirmation that he had not ruined Harry's reputation, and nudged him off the table. "Get to class, Mister Potter."

Harry grinned and waved to the professor as he limped his way out of the classroom and towards the Third floor. He had to force himself not to skip, and settled for a whistle, as he contemplated the potential torture he could put the new instructor through if he turned out be the total jerk everyone claimed, and not just a really intense teacher. By the time he reached the Defense classroom, he had an entire gauntlet for Professor Drake to run, one to last the year if need be.

"You're late," Was the first thing he heard upon entering the classroom with a carefully blank face.

"Yes, sir, I apologize, Professor Snape kept me after class to be sure there have been no ill-effects of the potion he invented for my leg," Harry said, making a show of his limp as he moved to the front of the class to hand over the note Snape had given him. "My leg cramped up when I was leaving and Professor Snape had me sit and rest it for a few minutes to be certain I did it no harm, so I'd be fit for any practical lessons you might have for us today."

The new instructor snatched the note from his hand and unrolled it, giving Harry an opportunity to study the man. He was tall, but Harry thought it might have more to do with the way he carried himself. Square, no-nonsense wire frames sat on an imposing nose that would remind one of the Potions Master several floors below, in that it had obviously been broken and poorly repaired. His short, gray hair stood straight up from the man running his fingers through his hair, and a deep red robe covered what seemed to be a very wiry frame. Drake glanced up at him.

"I do hope you've enjoyed your study," The man growled. Harry looked at him in confusion. "Stop staring at me and take your seat, Mister Potter."

Harry blushed and shifted his bag as he turned and took the only empty seat beside Zabini. "Prat doesn't make a fantastic first impression, does he?" He asked the taller Italian boy.

Zabini smirked. "He probably thought you were staring at the scar on his face. He won't talk about it, and if you mention it you'll find yourself mysteriously struck by a multitude of stinging hexes at some point."

Harry frowned. "That seems a touch irresponsible and immature of him, he could just take points. I'm pretty sure it's against the rules to attack students outside of lessons and self-defense."

Zabini glanced at Harry. "No one can prove it's him. And he likes to do it randomly, for no reason, in the corridors, and then he'll deduct points in your next class with him for being 'unprepared'. The first years, even the Slytherins, are bloody terrified and hide when they see him in the corridors."

Harry frowned. "I'm starting to like him less and less."

"That's ten points, Mister Potter, for your tardiness, and another five for speaking out of turn in my class," Drake said from the front of the room.

Harry scowled. "Sir, I had a note excusing my tardiness, and the Headmaster said he'd spoken with the entire staff about my leg potentially making me late," He excused, his hand raised uselessly in an effort to follow the protocol. "This is my very first day in classes, I'm lucky I've only experienced some severe cramping."

The man glared at him. "I did not ask for your excuses, Mister Potter, and I do not care about your note. No one is allowed to be late to my class, especially not attention-seekers who think they can use a minor injury as an excuse."

Harry's scowl deepened, but he decided to say nothing further. He prayed they would be doing something practical today.

"Today I am giving you all a break," Drake said, looking out over the class. Harry was surprised when the class responded by looking wholly apprehensive, rather than the relief those words would typically inspire. "Our lesson will be used to practice your shielding charms. You are not to use your wands to cast your shields, nor are you to speak. The only spells I want to hear will be from your opponent, who will be allowed their wands and verbal spells. And, because I'm such a nice guy, I'll even let you dodge on occasion. You are, of course, aware of my rules." The whole class seemed to flinch visibly as though the man had said Voldemort's name. The glassy brown eyes looked directly at Harry. "For those of you who were too _infirmed_," The way he said the word made it sound like nothing more than an excuse for laziness, causing Harry to glare. "To attend my class as scheduled, my rules are as follows: You may dodge, but only three times during the sparring session, at which point a spell activates, gluing your feet to the floor. You may not use any shielding charm that's a higher level than _Protego_, as this class is as much about the strength of your spells as it is your ability to cast them. Last, and most important, the person casting offensively must use only hexes, jinxes, and curses at a 6th Year level or above. If I catch you using spells lower than your grade, you will be forced to duel three of your classmates at once, all of whom I will select at random. Understood?"

The Gryffindor narrowed his eyes and gave a sharp nod, making the demonic professor grin predatorily. "Good, then will everyone please find their partners as assigned at the beginning of the year. Mister Potter, since you have been regrettably absent, it would seem there are no partners for you. Do not think this will excuse you from the practice, however; I will graciously put myself on your level so you may participate."

Harry smiled innocently. "Why, thank you, sir, that is very charitable of you." A couple of the Gryffindors and Slytherins snickered as the class was led to an adjoining room that Harry assumed would be used for their sparring. It was a large room, giving each of the ten sets of duelists at least 20 feet of space, and ropes on the floor cordoned it off intermittently.

"Don't step on the ropes, or cross over them once the duels start…Lavender did and she got, er, a nasty shock," Seamus warned in a low whisper as he passed Harry.

The Wizarding Savior looked at the professor who was standing impatiently at the far side of the room. Part of him could appreciate the teaching methods, but the rest of him was utterly pissed at the unfairness and near-cruelty of the lessons. He cleared his mind and wiped his face of any emotion as he stepped into the roped-off area where Drake was waiting for him.

"Tell me, Mister Potter, did you practice at all while you were in the hospital wing?" The man asked nastily.

Harry shrugged as he tucked his wand into the arm holster Hermione had gotten him. "Only as much as Madame Pomfrey would let me get away with, sir. She was worried I'd aggravate my injury if I did too much."

The Defense Professor sneered at Harry. "Then to accommodate your precious limitations, let us start with you merely shielding yourself, then we will switch. I want to see how much of your theory homework you can put to use."

"As you wish, Sir," Harry said, raising his hands complacently. He closed his eyes and imagined an impenetrable mirror-wall in front of him. Technically, he'd practiced outside of Madame Pomfrey's given parameters, but he also hadn't lied. The techniques in the second book Snape had leant him weren't strictly defense magic, and he hadn't cast any of the defense spells it had given him, only memorized the incantations. When he opened his eyes again as he felt a hex rebound off his shield, his irises were glowing with the power he was accessing to hold his spell. He hid a smile as the professor ducked his own spell.

"Potter, I said _Protego_ only," The man growled, advancing slightly.

Harry tipped his head to the side and gave the professor a look of consternation. "It is, Sir. A powerful _Protego _rebounds any spell that hits it, excepting the Unforgivables. At least, that's what the text you assigned us said." Drake harrumphed and straightened his robes, casting a nasty hex low and towards Harry's injured leg. The spell left a burn mark on the flagstone when it rebounded. "Are we not using dueling rules, then?" Harry asked, studying the burn mark curiously. That had been a Diminishing Hex, it would have left Harry with a stub if it had made contact.

Drake growled in response and started firing numerous spells, even going so far as to conjure a mirror behind Harry to try and hit him from behind, to no avail. He had to dodge his own spells twice, and when they'd all dissipated he stood bent over his knees, panting. Harry's complacent and almost bored look only seemed to piss him off even more. When he'd caught his breath he cast several spells at once, one of them meant to drain Harry of his shield. It rebounded with the others.

Harry frowned. "Bad form, sir, that could have drained me of my magic reserves for days. Do you think we should switch now, before you give yourself a her-" He was cut off by another spell rebounding behind him. "Hernia." He finished.

Drake shook his head, still gasping for breath. "No, I don't think we will. You have broken my rules, Mister Potter, and the consequence shall be slightly different, as you seem to be a level above your peers."

Harry furrowed his brow. "I didn't break the ru-"

"You did!" Drake shouted, drawing the attention of the entire room. "Only an advanced level shield or incredibly powerful Protego could have blocked that Draining Curse. It's not possible for you to be that powerful before you've reached your majority, and thus you cheated. For your disobedience, I challenge you to a duel!"

"I don't want to duel you, Professor," Harry said, frowning.

Drake narrowed his eyes. "Accept the challenge, Potter, or be labeled a coward and never enter my classroom again."

Harry nodded, shrugging. "If you say so, you're the expert, Professor Drake. I don't recall casting a different shield, but if you say I did, then I must have. Your challenge is accepted."

"Harry, no!" Hermione cried from across the room. Harry looked at her to see she was glaring at him. He recognized the warning for what it was and nodded.

Drake smirked. "I advise you listen to your friend, Mister Potter. It is unwise to accept the challenge of a Defense Master, you would do better to leave my class."

"I'm sorry, sir, but the challenge has already been accepted. By international dueling laws, that means we must duel or I shame my family name and forfeit any right to a title. I rather look forward to receiving the lord titles my father and godfather left for me, so we must duel."

The smirk left Drake's face then and he raised his wand, expanding their dueling area. "Very well then, Mister Potter. But keep in mind that the rules of my class still apply."

Harry bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Will we be using the International dueling laws as well, or would you prefer the free-for-all you demonstrated before, Sir?"

The professor growled and shot off a strong cutting hex that rebounded off of Harry's still-standing shield. "My rules, Potter, if you think you can handle that." Harry shrugged and moved to draw his wand. "Don't even try it, Potter. If you draw your wand, you forfeit this duel. Students are not to draw wands in my class without express permission." Harry winced, but nodded.

He now understood why Hermione had warned him against the duel, he hadn't yet figured out how to control the power behind his wandless spells, and his offensive spells in particular kept causing more harm than intended. The boy savior glanced at Hermione, who put a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence, indicating he had to cast without words as well. He paled.

"Sir, for your own safety, I beg of you to allow me to use my wand. I'll cast silently, but-"

"My protection?!" The professor shouted, cutting Harry off. The boy sighed as another spell bounced off his shield. "If you're too weak to perform a simple duel, then forfeit and leave my classroom."

Harry scowled. "As you wish, sir. I've given you fair warning." In quick succession he raised his empty hand and cast Incarcerous, Polarum Oculus (conjunctivitis curse), a shield wall that protected bystanders from spell effects, and Solarem. The two offensive spells hit their target, and Harry covered his eyes as the blinding light from the maximized lumos filled the duel shield he'd conjured. When he'd lowered his arm, the Professor was laying on the ground, severely dazed from the light despite the film-y substance Harry'd conjured over the man's eyes. The young wizard looked around the class as they applauded or stood in shock. "Has anyone been forced to duel three opponents before, as his rules state?"

Hermione raised her hand. "The duel ends when the opponent, or opponents, are unable to cast any longer. I'd say he could still cast if he wanted," She told him with an evil smirk.

Harry grinned and drew his shield in to try to limit the amount of magic that would go into his spell. When he thought he had control, he cast a stupefication at the already downed instructor to finish the duel. Immediately, the ropes cordoning them off from the class shrunk to their original size.

"Well done, Mister Potter." The entire class started and turned to the doorway to see Albus Dumbledore smiling at the Wizarding Saviour. "Don't be so surprised, I'm the Headmaster, I was alerted immediately when the challenge was put forth. I'm shocked that none of you upstanding students had come to me or your Head of House with Professor Drake's unbecoming behavior. I will see to it that he is replaced immediately. Mister Malfoy, would you be so kind as to summon Madam Pomfrey via the floo in Professor Drake's office?" The Slytherin nodded and left to do as he'd been asked. The Headmaster turned back to the class. "Please inform your Housemates that Defense classes will be cancelled for the day. You are dismissed."

The students filed past the Headmaster, back into the classroom to gather their things, with wide grins upon their faces. Harry stopped before the wizened old wizard. "I'm sorry to deprive you of another defense instructor, Headmaster. I tried to warn him, but…" He trailed off, gesturing over his shoulder to the unconscious wizard laying on the mats.

Dumbledore placed a calming hand on the boys shoulder. "Not to worry, Harry, it's my own fault, I obviously need to update the screening process. Perhaps I should include you in it." The old wizard chuckled and Harry couldn't help but join in. "Go on with your friends, Harry, I'll see to our dear professor."

Harry waved his mentor goodbye and limped off to where Hermione, Ron, and Draco were waiting for him with his bag. "Sorry, Hermione," He muttered, seeing that he was about to be chastised. He grabbed his bag when Ron held it out to him. "I tried to warn him, it's not my fault he wouldn't listen, and even you know that if I hadn't accepted the challenge he'd have had every right to remove me from his class. Plus, though his grounds were weak, he could've made a bid for the Black and Potter titles."

The girl sighed. "That's alright, Harry, I understand. Professor Drake was out of line, and I don't blame you for what happened. I'm more angry with Professor Dumbledore for not putting a stop to that farce." The group moved out of the classroom, joined by Zabini and Parkinson.

"He couldn't stop it, Granger," Malfoy said.

"Why not? He's the Headmaster, and it wasn't a real duel because he wasn't following the guidelines," Parkinson pointed out. Hermione nodded in agreement with the question.

"He was following his own guidelines, and it sticks because he was the teacher. By law, the rules set forth by a teacher in a classroom are the dueling rules in that classroom," Harry explained. "It's why normal dueling rules typically stand, unless the teacher is doing a specific lesson."

Zabini spoke up. "Except in Snape's class."

Harry furrowed his brow. "How so?"

Zabini huffed a laugh. "Well, his opening speech started with a rule that there'd be no foolish wand-waving, but we can still cast in the Potions classroom, so obviously it didn't apply."

Malfoy answered. "That's because we're not casting offensive spells. If you tried, it would fizzle out unless it was really powerful. The rule Harry's talking about is only related to dueling. If it applied to spells in general, we'd only be able to cast when given explicit permission, and that wouldn't really promote magical growth, Blaise."

The Italian nodded in understanding and smirked at his friend. "Know-it-all. Let's go, we can do our Charms homework before dinner, since we got out of class so early. See you later, Potter, Granger, Weasley." The Slytherins split off from the Gryffindors with waves and farewell's. When they were out of sight, Ron and Hermione dragged Harry to the nearest alcove.

"What?" He asked as the two stared at him excitedly.

"Do you know who your rescuer is yet?" Hermione asked in exasperation.

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, come one, Harry, you've had all day, certainly you must have some idea."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Guys, I…" He stopped as the ghost of a voice echoed in his mind. _'Everything's fine, Harry, I'm just a bit tired.' _Harry kept his face carefully blank as he looked at his friends. "I think it might've been that Ravenclaw Head Boy. I remember hearing him tell a couple guys that he got terrible stress migraines, and that would explain why his voice seemed vaguely familiar. I'll send him a note."

Ron seemed to accept this, but Hermione looked unconvinced. "Are you sure, Harry? You don't seem really convinced yourself…what if you're wrong?"

"Oh, come on, 'Mione, you're the one who harped on me this morning about showing my rescuer gratitude. Now, when I know who it is, you're suddenly skeptical? Leave off, 'Mione. I'll see you guys later, I'm gonna go speak with the headmaster about Drake," Harry huffed. He turned and limped off down the corridor, back towards the defense classroom. Behind him, he could hear Ron questioning Hermione on her sudden change of heart.

"Why, hello, Harry, I thought you would be off with your friends," Dumbledore said as Harry walked back into the classroom.

Harry shrugged. "I wanted to speak with you about Professor Drake, sir. Are you going to fire him?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Though I don't think you should be worrying about that, Harry, I've learned better than to keep secrets from you. I'm afraid Professor Drake will have to be replaced, yes."

Harry sighed and sat down, rubbing at his leg. "If you don't mind my saying so, sir, I think he should stay." He smiled bashfully when Dumbledore came and sat across the table from him, looking at him curiously. "He's got some bad reinforcement methods, that's for sure, but his teaching methods work. Even Neville has learned to cast most spells silently, and he can do weaker spells wandlessly. I think that's why no one complained, is because his methods _are_ working, even if he's cruel about getting his results."

"Do you have a recommendation, then, Harry?" Dumbledore asked sincerely.

The boy savior blushed and shrugged again. "I was thinking that you could perhaps…I dunno, put him on a probationary period? Let him know what he's done wrong, and keep him under observation. If he can't improve, then replace him at Christmas, but if you replace him now you're just going to disrupt classes, and very possibly give the students the idea that they have the power to get teachers fired. It doesn't look good, y'know?"

Dumbledore sat quietly, seemingly considering Harry's point. "I see what you mean, Harry, and I thank you for your input. I will discuss your idea with the other professor's while Mister Drake recovers from your duel. I must say, it was rather ingenious of you to prevent him going blind by casting conjunctivitis before solarem. Where did you learn that?"

"Oh, it was just…an idea. I didn't want to hurt him permanently, and the text says that conjunctivitis creates a film over the eye that doesn't filter certain particles of light, leaving your opponent partially blind. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure it'd work, but I'm glad it did," Harry told the old wizard quietly, slightly ashamed for the dirty trick he'd played by casting so many spells in succession.

The headmaster seemed to read Harry's mind and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It was an unfair fight, Harry, and you won fairly based on the rules. You knew he'd be hurt if the duel went on, not to mention your own injury. Don't beat yourself up over it, it was a good, fair win, even by international dueling standards."

Harry smiled at the wizard gratefully. "Thank you, Headmaster. Um…"

"Was there something else, Harry?" Dumbledore asked indulgently.

"Well," The boy savior looked down at his hand tracing grains in the desk between them. "Do you know if Professor Snape has a class right now? I wanted to thank him for all the help he's given me…and apologize, because he asked me not to hospitalize Professor Drake."

Bright blue eyes twinkled madly as the headmaster responded. "No, Harry, I don't believe Professor Snape does. In fact, I believe you might find him in his office right now."

Harry grinned and stood. "Thanks, sir, for listening to me. I better go now, if I want to make it down to the dungeons before the end of term." He gestured to his leg, making Dumbledore chuckle and wave him off. He left as quickly as his limp would carry him towards the dungeons.

_~Break~_

_Knock knock_

"Enter."

Harry pushed the door open to the Potion Masters office and stepped in, closing the oaken barrier behind him. "Are you busy, sir?"

Snape didn't look up from the papers on his desk. "Not terribly, Mister Potter. It is an unfortunate trademark of twenty years teaching that I can grade First Year quizzes in my sleep. Tell me," The man looked up with an amused smirk. "Do the Gryffindor first years meet en masse at the beginning of the year to make a list of the most ridiculous quiz answers?"

Harry chuckled. "No sir, it's the whole House. We want to make sure there's consistency."

Snape chuckled appreciatively and returned to his grading. "Why are you down here, Potter, instead of causing mischief with your friends?"

Harry took a deep breath and covered most of the distance between himself and the desk, his shuffling gait making him wince. The duel had taken more energy from him than he'd let on, and he'd pushed himself perhaps too hard on his way to the dungeons. He leaned on the chair in front of Snape's desk. "It was you last night, wasn't it? In that corridor? You carried me back to Gryffindor Tower."

Snape paused in the scratching of his quill, and let out a small sigh. "It was, Potter. I was…I was tasked by Madame Pomfrey to follow you from the Hospital, to make sure you got back to your dorm alright. Unfortunately, I was distracted by a scuffle between two students on the sixth floor. By the time I was able to return my attention to your whereabouts, your magical signature had disappeared. I'm sorry it took me so long to find you, I had forgotten about that hidden corridor."

Harry scoffed in disbelief. "Sorry? Professor, I could've been stuck there the whole night, maybe longer, if you hadn't found me. Why should you be sorry? I'm here because I wanted to express my gratitude. I only wish there were some way for me to repay your kindness."

Snape looked up sharply. "No." He said sternly. "You don't owe me anything, Potter. I am your teacher, and it is my job to protect you and your peers. I promised your mother I would keep you safe, and I failed to do so because of stupid schoolyard prejudice for the first five years of your tenure here. Protecting you now that you've done something that should never have been asked of you is the _least_ I can do."

Harry looked down and studied his feet. "Is that the only reason, sir? Because it's your job, a promise…because I'm Harry Potter?" He heard Snape's chair legs grind against the dungeon flagstone as the man stood up and rounded the desk.

"What do you want me to say, Harry? Yes, I made a promise to my best friend years ago to protect her child, and yes, it is my job to protect you." The Potions Master spoke softly as he came to stand beside the young wizard, turning him gently so they were facing one another. "And yes, I do wish to protect you because you're Harry Potter. Not because you're Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, or Harry Potter the Wizarding Saviour, but because you're Harry Potter, the boy who lost his parents when he was too young, got placed in a terrible home where he was unloved, and had the world placed on his shoulders in the one place he should've been allowed to feel safe and normal. I want to protect you because I've never met anyone in my life who deserved it more."

Harry looked up with a watery smile for the older wizard. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot." He gasped and grimaced as his leg gave a small cramp. "Do you mind if I sit for a minute? I can't take another potion, per Madame Pomfrey's orders, and my leg hurts from the walk down here."

Snape nodded and Harry sat in the chair he'd been leaning on as Snape moved back around the desk. "Since you're down here now rather than the previously agreed upon after-dinner meeting, I don't suppose you have my book?"

Harry nodded and dug into his bag. He paused as he came across his Potions book. He pulled it out, along with the one Snape had lent him. "Actually, Professor, I think I may have two books to return to you." He put the potion texts on the desk and Snape picked them up, setting aside the book on signature ingredients.

The Potions Master ran a hand softly over the cover of the old school text. "Where did you get this?"

"Hermione brought it to me, she said she found it in the cupboard of spare ingredients when you told her to get a spare text for me to use until I could order my own. The theory and remarks in the margins are the secret behind my recently improved grade. But…when I figured out that you were the Half-Blood Prince, I realized I couldn't keep it, so I'm giving it back. I don't really need it, my new text should be here tomorrow, and Draco's agreed to help me with my research anyway, so…"

Snape flipped through the book with a fond smile, then ran his hand over the cover once more. "This book was my best friend after your mother and I fought. I thought Black had destroyed it when it disappeared all those years ago." The man looked up. "Thank you for returning it to me, Harry."

The young wizard nodded and stood up. "It's yours, no thanks ne-"

Snape surprised him by standing and holding the book out. "No, Potter, I am grateful, do not lessen that with broken logic. However, I do not need it any longer, and I would like you to have it, on the condition that you never cast any of the spells I created. I was naïve, and while I didn't always know the result of stringing together Latin phrases, some of these spells are terrible and deadly. There are two, however, that you may use if you do so with discretion." Harry grinned and took the book back. "Levicorpus and Muffliato were two of my better inventions. Use them wisely, Potter. If I catch you at it, though, or catch you using any other spells, I will take the book back and destroy it myself. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically and tucked the book back into his bag. "Yessir, absolutely. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. To be honest, the Half-Blood Prince has become a friend to me. I've told him things I've never even told Ron and Hermione. I'll admit, I see a lot of him still in you."

Snape smirked. "Thank you, Mister Potter, I will take that as glowing praise. However, if you ever wish to stop speaking to a book, my door is open. I'm aware that Minerva can be a touch overeager when it comes to helping her lions. I imagine that is because her character in the classroom and corridors doesn't quite recommend her as a confidante, so she exceeds what would be necessary when a student does dare to approach her. You should head off to dinner, Harry, before your friends become worried."

"Yeah," Harry chuckled. "Thanks again, Professor, for everything. Who knows, maybe I'll take you up on that offer to talk one of these days." The young wizard turned and walked to the door. He opened it, and just as he stepped out, he looked back over his shoulder. "Oh, one more thing. I'm sorry I couldn't listen to you earlier."

Snape scowled from his desk. "Regarding what, exactly?"

Harry chewed on his lower lip. "Well…Drake's in the Hospital Wing." With those last words, he ducked out of the office, just as Snape exploded in exasperation. The echo of his name bounced jauntily down the corridor as he scurried away as quickly as his bum leg would carry him. Let Dumbledore explain the situation, Harry quite liked where his head sat on his shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the year had gone smoothly, with Harry finding himself more and more in the dungeons with Draco working on their Potions, often times going down there for a quiet place to practice spells. Drake had managed to toe the line, after secretly enlisting Harry's help. Apparently, he'd been one of the foremost Private detectives in Wales for a time, before taking up a post among the Wizarding equivalent of the Secret Service there. Being hired as a teacher as a favor to his commanding officer had been the last thing he wanted, especially since the only training he'd ever conducted was for militaristic troops as a drill instructor. Harry convinced him that keeping the students in line didn't have to be the task he made it into, and showed him a new way of conducting the room. After a week of seeing a significant difference in the way the class conducted itself, the man gave in and appointed Harry as his Watcher, someone to keep an eye out for mischief. Then after a few more weeks, when Snape discovered Harry's strange affinity for grasping and teaching defense via spying on one of Harry and Draco's study sessions in the dungeon, Drake gave Harry a leg up in the classroom by officially appointing him as the student-teacher immediately following Christmas Break, when his muscles had fully healed.

Following this development, Harry had found himself in the dungeons even more, but just as often with Snape as Draco and the other Slytherins, for the Potions Master had taken to offering Harry texts, and then inviting him down to discuss them. While unexpected, Harry looked forward to the tea and vivid conversation each week, as well as the twice weekly training routine he'd coaxed Drake into teaching him. However, at the end of term, Harry was faced with a decision; he was no longer welcome at his relative's house, they had made that clear when Dumbledore had delivered the news of his heroism. So where would he go for the Summer? The Weasley's offered, of course, as did Hermione, but Harry in the end chose to stay where he'd least expected to be invited: Malfoy Manor…

"Harry, if we don't get off the train, we're going to be taking a round trip back to Hogsmeade. C'mon, what's got you so tied up?" Draco coaxed, struggling to get down the raven-haired teens trunk from the overhead.

Harry sighed and reached up, easily lifting the trunk down from the baggage carriage. "What if your dad doesn't like me? He only invited me because you talked him into it."

Draco smirked as he gripped his own trunk to drag out of the train if they ever got moving in that direction. "It wasn't just me, Harry, I told you."

Harry rolled his eyes and lifted his trunk and Hedwigs cage to sit atop Draco's, shoving the blonde out of the way to drag the pile out of the train on his own. He allowed the boy to help him place the trunks on the platform, even though the scrawny Slytherin barely acted as a buffer against the steps of the train.

"Yeah, your two mysterious accomplices who you can neither tell me who they are, or how they know me _and_ have influence over your father. I'd feel a lot better about that particular detail if I knew who was putting me in your father's good graces besides you."

Draco grunted as he 'helped' Harry clear the trunks of the last step onto the platform. "You'll see. I promise it's a good surprise. Just stay here while I go to find my father and your benefactors. And…don't be angry, okay? People have reasons for keeping their secrets."

Harry scowled at the cryptic statement, but nodded, letting the boy walk off into the milling crowd. Using one arm, he hoisted himself up onto the piled trunks and sat on the edge. He huffed a sigh as Ron came over to stand next to him.

"Hey," He muttered despondently.

"You know, the invitation is still open if you want to come with us, Harry," The red-head pointed out. "I get that Malfoy is our friend, but…I still don't understand why you picked him over me and my family."

Harry rubbed his temple. "I told you, Ginny's still a little sore about me being gay. I get that she's not behaving any differently, but things between us have been awkward, okay? We don't talk like we used to, she's not sure how to act around me…we need some time apart. She needs time to see how silly she's being, and I need time to get over that stupid crush I had on Professor Drake. I'm still wishing you'd come to those training sessions, maybe then I wouldn't have made such a fool of myself."

"You didn't make a fool of yourself, Harry," Ron cooed sympathetically, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Crushes are normal for our age group, like Hermione said, and Drake was understanding, wasn't he?"

"I guess."

"Oh, stop it, Harry, you're being ridiculous, you know that!" Ron ruffled the hair that Harry had grown out in an attempt to catch the strict Defense instructor's eye. "Rejection is always awkward, and we always feel foolish when it happens to us, no matter who it is. You just need some time to get your head on straight. And hey, at least Snape agreed to take over your training, so you won't have to stop next term."

"That's the worst part, Ron!" Harry cried, suddenly angry. "He could have, even should have, gone to McGonagall or Dumbledore, but instead he went to the one professor whose respect means more to me than anything. Snape probably thinks I'm a complete joke for having a crush on a teacher."

Ron threw his hands up in exasperation. "You're not the first, Harry, and you're definitely not the last! Do you remember Lockhart? How many girls a week, or better yet a day, do you think he had to turn away while he was our teacher? I'd bet it was tons, maybe half the girls at school. Go ahead and ask Remus, he probably had a few offers himself. Hell, I had a bit of a crush on Trelawney in Fourth Year. We're teenagers, Harry, we become attracted to people easily, its something to do with hormones and shit. Yes, you've had less crushes than the rest of us, only two so far as I know, but you had other things to worry about. Stop beating yourself up, getting rejected is a natural part of growing up, you just have to own up to it and move on. Geez, I really hope I wasn't this mopey about my first rejection."

"I'm almost 17, Ron! I should be able to control my emotions, I should know myself better than that! But no, I can't even tell the difference between romantic feelings and physical attraction!" Harry huffed another sigh and put his elbow on his knee to brace his chin in his hand. "I might as well still be thirteen. Hopefully this summer with the Malfoy's will give me some perspective, give me a chance to get to know who I am. And no, before you ask, I can't do that at your house. It's too crowded, and I need some time alone. Besides, why are you even here? Aren't you guys spending the first two weeks visiting Charlie in Romania? Your mum's gonna be pissed if you miss your scheduled International Floo because you were being a bonehead. So get, alright? I'll owl you, let you know how everything goes with Draco's dad."

His friend scowled at basically being told to shove off, but gave Harry a final pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. The Boy-Who-Lived sat watching the milling people for a moment before being startled by the clearing of a throat to his immediate right, opposite of the place Ron had been standing.

"Your friend is right, you know."

Harry winced. He didn't need this, he didn't want to see the man who probably wanted to laugh in his face. "I find that hard to believe, Ron isn't usually right about all that much, sir, least of all when it comes to emotions."

"It surprised me as well, to be sure, but he is correct. You have to let it go, Harry. However, I can accept that it will take some time. It's not Weasley's fault that he doesn't understand, though, he's never gone through the crisis of self-discovery that you're in now. I know it's difficult to suddenly discover your sexual preference differs from most of the boys in your dorm, but you will get used to it, I promise."

Harry grunted. "All due respect, Professor Snape, but how would you know?"

A hand gripped his shoulder comfortingly. "Because I've been there, I was even in a similar situation, the only difference being that I had a crush on a 7th year when I was a 3rd Year. Believe me, that's far more embarrassing, children have no discretion. The whole school knew about an hour after I confronted him. I was a laughing stock for weeks and I hated myself for saying anything."

"That's terrible, Professor, you didn't do anything to deserve that. I mean, nothing anyone does deserves that kind of treatment, but that especially, you were just following your heart. And you were in no way to blame, it was that guys own fault for being such a jerk." Harry said, looking at his professor and friend.

"Exactly, Harry, I was following my emotions, the same as you were last month. And, if I could point out, I think Professor Drake was very sympathetic to your plight. See it from his perspective, Harry. He did what he thought was best, he let you down gently, trying to minimalize how hurt you were. For your first _real_ crush, you got off pretty easy. Most people wind up like I did." Snape pointed out.

Harry couldn't help a small smile as he stared into the Potion Master's black eyes, an understanding passing between them. "I understand, Professor, and you're right, Drake reallyunderstood. I mean, it could have been worse, a lot worse. I just can't understand what happened to you, though. Who could be so cruel?" He continued to stare deeply into the deep onyx, mesmerized by the empathy he saw there.

"Who indeed?" Snape said, glancing pointedly over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing with Draco and-

"Remus? What are you doing here? I thought…" Suddenly, the Wizarding Savior took in the full image before him, namely the arms each man had slung around each other's waist. "A-are you two…together?"

Remus smiled nervously. "For better or worse, and for a little over a year now. Please don't be angry, Harry, I just wasn't sure how to tell you."

"Angry?" Harry repeated, frowning deeply. "Remus, why would I be angry? You're happy aren't you?"

The werewolf nodded, looking at the man beside him. "I am, Harry, I really am. Lucius has been very good for me, and I believe I've been good for him."

"Well then that's fine! As long as you're happy, I'm happy, even if he did act like a prat towards Professor Snape when they were kids," Harry told him grinning and jumping off the trunks.

Lucius narrowed his eyes at the Potions Master and chuckled when the man only shrugged. "Been telling stories, Severus? I have a few about you, if we're all sharing."

"I was merely helping Mister Potter understand that his problems are not as big as he's making them, the relation to our own story seemed important, and sharing it with him was, I felt, a necessity. No need to go delving too much into the past. Now, shall we go, before the entire platform begins to stare at our odd group?" The Potions Master gestured around to the people still milling about, all of them casting the assembly sideways glances and whispering with their friends.

Lucius blushed. "Ah, yes, I suppose we do make quite the spectacle. Let us make our way to the floo, shall we?" He levitated the stacked trunks and turned abruptly towards the fireplaces in the far corner set aside for floo use. Harry made to follow a little reluctantly, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"If it's not too much trouble, Lucius, I happen to know that Mister Potter has a most disastrous track record for using the floo. It would be no trouble to take him via apparition, if you have no problems with that?" Snape asked over his head.

Lucius snickered. "As you wish, Severus. We'll see you at the manor. Do try not to splinch the boy, won't you?"

The Potions Master scowled at the teasing smirk his friend flashed him, and led Harry away from the crowd towards a previously unnoticed door. When he opened it and they had stepped inside, Harry noted that it was a janitor's closet. He leaned against the back wall and crossed his arms while Snape warded the door. When the Potions Master had finished, he turned to face Harry, his own arms crossed as well.

"You are a terrible liar, Mister Potter."

Harry frowned. "What do you-"

"I've had you as a student for 6 years, do you really think I can't tell when you're lying by now, Harry? What's bothering you about Remus and Lucius, because I didn't for a second believe that you were happy for them back there."

"What? Of course I am, Remus is my godfather now, I'm glad he's found someone who makes him smile. I haven't seen that look of joy on his face in years!" Harry insisted, trying his best not to look guilty.

"Harry?"

The boy scoffed and threw his arms up. "Fine! I am happy for them, I am, but I don't understand why I wasn't told! I hate when people are keeping something from me, you know that!" He stepped towards the imposing figure of his professor. "And you were as bad as them! Draco couldn't have said anything, he's not subtle enough, but you could've let it slip at _any_ point during our weekly meetings! It's not them I'm not happy about, it's you! How could you betray my trust like that?" Harry demanded. "I get that you're my teacher, but I thought we were, I dunno…I thought you were my friend or something. But I guess this mess with Drake just proves that you don't have my back, at all. I seriously overestimated whatever was going on between us during my visits to the dungeons."

"I see…" Snape said moving across the long closet to stand before the younger wizard. "You were never angry with your godfather, or with Lucius, you're not even upset about them at all are you? This attitude of yours is because I didn't…what? I didn't convince Drake to sleep with you?"

"No, because you stopped him!" Harry exclaimed, poking his professor in the chest. "I'd have been fine with the harsh reaction he was likely going to give, he's a straight married man, my abrupt advances probably set a militaristic man like him on edge, but _you_ had to go and ruin that! I was all prepared for it, for the nasty words, for being tossed out on my ear, but instead you, you…you made him be nice to me! You showed him that he was being a ponce and he wound up…"

"Breaking your heart instead of making you angry," Snape finished as a silent tear began to make its way over Harry's cheek. He brushed it away. "I'm sorry, Harry, I thought I was doing you a favor, but I see now that a bruised ego would've been better than the deep hurt you're feeling now. I suppose I underestimated how much you cared for Drake."

Harry groaned and threw his arms up as he turned to walk back to the back of the cupboard. "That's the problem! I _don't _care for Drake, Professor! Despite the vulnerability he showed in asking for my help, he was still just a ponce at the end of the day. He only asked for my help, and then helped me in return, because he wanted to keep his job, prove to his commanding officer that he could handle any assignment. I didn't care for him, except maybe so far as I'd care for anyone whose done me a great service, I just thought he was…well, hot. I mean he had a bloody fantastic body. But somehow, that mild attraction turned itself into something more, something it simply isn't. Why the hell do hormones have to be so damn complicated?!" He threw his fist into the wall, and thanks to his training, didn't even flinch as a knuckle cracked under the pressure. He slumped against the wall, touching his forehead to the cool stone. "I don't want any of this. I wasn't exactly happy before, when I was too busy for emotions and hormones, but somehow this is worse…so much worse. How do guys my age cope with this…this bullshit?!" He gave a barely perceptible wince when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It gets better, Harry, I promise. I apologize for intervening on your behalf, but you have to understand that I thought I was helping," Snape spoke softly.

Harry gave a withering sigh and turned to lean his back against the wall, staring up at his professor. "I know…I don't even know why I'm angry at you; anyone else would've done the same as you did. Maybe I just want someone to blame for the hurt I'm feeling…I'm sorry, Professor Snape, you did what you thought was best, I shouldn't blame you for that." He put his head in his hands. "I just wish I could control these damned hormones. I feel like a time bomb." He heard his closet companion shift, then felt Snape pulling at his broken hand. He let the man examine it, noting that he was kneeling on the floor as well, an unusual sight for the dour man.

"If your broken finger is anything to go by, you probably are, of one sort or the other. You wanted to be normal, Mister Potter, this is normal. But you don't have to go through it on your own, you have friends willing to help," Snape sympathized. "And like it or not, you are dealing with it a lot better than some, you just have to give it time. As for the hurt you're feeling…it'll go away on its own, you just need to find something to distract yourself."

Harry hummed as the man healed his finger. "Hm, I suppose that's one of those things easier said than done. Then again, it could be just the opportunity I need to finish my Potions research. I discovered this brilliant theory concerning the use of a detox potion and a spell for controlling the weather, but the Defense Master couldn't get the spell to stabilize when he introduced the potions element. He steadily concentrated on the spell half until he died, but I've been wondering if perhaps the problem laid in stretching the material of the potion too far. Unfortunately, there hasn't been any research done in this area, of stretching the molecular base of a potion beyond its limits, so I'm without a clue as to how to start. I have a sinking feeling that it's going to involve some super complicated science, and I only have a basic understanding of Chemistry from reading Dudley's secondary school text books."

Snape hummed thoughtfully. "I graduated from one of the lesser Muggle universities with a degree in Chemistry, top of my class. Since we're both staying with the Malfoy's over the Summer, and as this doesn't count towards homework, I could perhaps offer my assistance, so long as I was credited for my work when you publish."

Harry grinned. "That's brilliant, Professor, I'd appreciate the help. And of course you'd be credited, if I publish. Don't know if I should, though, since the implications of proving the process viable could affect our world in a horrible way. We'd basically be handing wizards the means for chemical warfare."

"That's a risk you take, Harry, with anything that you publish. Even some healing potions have offensive implications, but if you only worried about the bad that your finding can bring then our world would never advance. If need be, you can create a failsafe hidden within the process, something to prevent anything more than defensive or healing potions from working. Think of the healing implications, though. Hospitals could use the process to mass distribute Pepper-Up during the cold season, or something to that effect. You can't allow the bad in the world to keep you from doing some good," Snape insisted. He finished healing Harry's hand, but didn't release the cool fingers as he replaced his wand in its holster. "Some things are worth the risk." The Potions Master said gently, staring into the shimmering green eyes and lightly stroking his thumb over the back of the tanned hand.

Harry blushed, though he didn't know why. "I suppose so. We should get going, Remus will start to worry soon, if he isn't already. Thanks for talking to me, Professor Snape. And if I'm honest, I think some of my anger may be at Remus for not telling me. I thought he trusted me more than that."

Snape stood, pulling his student up with him. "Talk to him, Harry, I think you'll find that he trusts you greatly, and that this had nothing to do with trust. We can apparate from here, if you're ready."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded, moving into the fold of Snape's arms when the man opened them wide as an invitation. He hugged the man close and squeezed his eyes shut as his feet left the ground while Snape spun them in a sharp twist, then gasped as he began to feel like he was being pushed through a straw. With a sudden displacement of air, Harry felt his feet on solid ground. He backed away quickly, stumbling a few feet away before his legs collapsed from underneath him, sending him sprawling onto the grass. Snape's face appeared above him looking amused.

"Side-along apparating can be harrowing the first time. Most people vomit. Are you alright?" The man asked, barely containing the laughter in his tone.

Harry swallowed dryly and nodded as he gasped for air. "Could've been worse." He grinned up at the man. "Now that the nausea has mostly passed, that was kind of fun. Can't wait to do it again."

Snape rolled his eyes and for the second time in as many minutes helped his student to his feet. "I always wondered if you were a glutton for punishment, Potter, but now I know for sure."

"What the hell took you so long? I've been waiting almost 20 minutes!"

Both men turned to see Remus making his way across the large lawn from the front door of a magnificent mansion. Again, Harry blushed for no discernible reason as his godfather pulled him into a tight hug, and then began checking him over for missing body parts. "Remus, I'm fine, really, Professor Snape didn't splinch me. And it's like he said, we needed to talk."

The werewolf narrowed his eyes at the younger wizard. "What on earth could you have needed to talk about that would keep you for twenty minutes? You nearly gave me a heart attack, I thought you'd both been attacked."

Harry rolled his eyes at the fatherly tone. "Really, Remus, it was nothing. Professor Snape was just talking me through some problems I've been having concerning Professor Drake."

The werewolf's eyes widened comically as understanding passed over him. "Oh, I-I see…you know, you could have come to me about it, Harry. As your guardian I was made aware of the situation."

"Yeah, but this was sort of something Snape and I needed to work out on our own…y'know, since he was kind of involved and all. It's nothing against you, Remus, it was just something we needed to resolve, alright?" Harry asked, giving his father-figure his best puppy eyes.

The man sighed and glanced at the Potions Master, but nodded. "I understand, Harry. If you need to talk, though, you know I'm here." Harry nodded and the man stepped out of his personal space. "But I still don't see what could have taken you so long. What were you doing? I saw you two walk into the broom cupboard."

Again Harry blushed as he thought about his teacher and the janitor's closet. "Er…I, well, we were…um…"

"I took Mister Potter to that closet so we might speak privately," Snape said, interrupting Harry's fumble for words. "After we had discussed the aforementioned issue, Harry apprised me of a project he's been working on, one that has left him rather side-tracked lately, and I've offered my assistance, as I have the appropriate qualifications. If there's nothing else, I believe Mister Potter would like to get settled into his rooms, and perhaps be given a tour of all of the pertinent areas?"

"Ooh, yeah, this place looks huge, a tour would be great," Harry said excitedly, looking at his godfather expectantly.

Remus looked at him, a guilty look plastered over his features. "I'm sorry, Harry, I hadn't even thought about that. I sort of promised Draco I'd help him get unpacked so he could go tend to his nifflers. I put it off until you got here, but I wouldn't feel right putting it off further. Maybe tomorrow? Or you could ask Professor Snape. If you're not too busy getting settled yourself, of course, Severus."

Harry looked at the Potions Master, who was scowling at the former Defense Instructor. "No, I'm not, I had my things brought over yesterday." The former Death Eater growled.

"Brilliant!" Remus exclaimed, oblivious to the anger both of the men in front of him were radiating. "Harry's rooms are beside yours. I had thought it'd be easier, since you're taking over his training, but now it works out doubly well since you're working on this mysterious project together. When you've both finished, Lucius said you could join him in the East Wing library." He took off inside the over-large house, leaving the two wizards in the front garden.

"Don't see why Draco couldn't have asked _his_ father," Harry mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and taking no notice of the slightly possessive inflection in his tone. He followed as Snape led him into the massive marble home.

SSHPSSHPSSHP

Near the end of the tour, Harry was surprised when Lucius Malfoy joined them in the dining rooms, offering to join them in the remainder of the tour. "This house can be a maze if you're not careful. I got lost a great many times as a boy, and discovered some rather interesting rooms that I thought you might like to see. Draco mentioned that you've been obsessing over some sort of project, and there are some pretty large workshops on the ground floor, if you think you'll need one."

Harry grinned, looking at his Professor, then back to his host. "That'd be brilliant, I hadn't even thought about workspace. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Call me Lucius, Harry, please. Draco has spoken highly of you, and I have no doubt you'll be like family soon enough. Where are you in your tour?" The blonde aristocrat asked.

"I was going to show Mister Potter the back gardens and the gallery, and then we would retire to the East Wing Library, where Remus told us to meet you," Snape said.

Lucius considered this. "Well, I don't recommend going to the back gardens just now, I had some herbs delivered this morning, for your potions, but forgot that I'd given the garden staff the week off. The gardens are in desperate need of a good weeding, and the herbs I ordered are all piled beside the rows I'd had set out for them. At the very least, I hope you'll wait until tomorrow. I've noticed that the gardens can be quite dangerous when the sun is going down, due to how quickly it became overgrown. As for the Gallery…well, Ozymandius Malfoy has decided to throw one of his legendary tantrums, so the contents of most of the paintings are in shambles."

"Then I suppose all that is left is to see if any of your workshops meet the parameters we require for Harry's project." Snape commented. "Lead the way, Lucius. Although, I must say I'm interested to know why you've never shown me these workshops in the many years that I've been spending the summer with you."

Lucius scoffed as he turned to lead them out of the room. "If I had ever shown you the rooms I'm taking you to now, you'd have turned one into your potions lab and be lost forever to the rest of the world." He commented lightly, making Harry snicker.

They walked down the corridor to a door Harry hadn't noticed before, and when they stepped inside, he was amazed. A massive workbench lined one wall, with a small break for an open doorway, and the opposite wall was covered in a number of magical tools used for the modification of cauldrons. Along the back wall stood several shelves of untouched cauldrons, waiting to be modified.

"Through that doorway is another, slightly larger workshop that is specifically spelled to run Muggle equipment, and a fully outfitted chemistry lab. I took the liberty of replacing all of the old machinery with the latest, state-of-the-art gadgets," Lucius said softly, smiling at Harry.

"You…this can't have just been sitting here, Mis-Lucius. Did you do this?" Harry asked, looking at the aristocratic Slytherin.

The man nodded. "When Draco told me of your project, it occurred to me that you might need some place to pursue your research. The door in the far left corner connects directly to the main Library, directly across from the sections I thought you might need most. I hope I haven't overstepped at all?"

Harry was surprised by the slight nervousness he saw in the normally stoic blonde. "This is incredible," He hugged the man, startling him. "Thank you."

Lucius smiled, returning the hug. "I've done a great many things to ruin your life, Mister Potter; I wanted to do something to help you. If there's anything else you need in the course of your project, just let me know and I'll be sure you get it. And, even though I suspect you'll have Professor Snape's help, since I doubt you'll be finished with the project by the end of the summer, I took the liberty of putting a request in with the governors to give you unlimited floo access to the mansion upon your return to the school. I want you to feel welcome here."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Even if, Merlin forbid, you and Remus don't work out?"

"Of course, Harry. Draco has told me that he thinks of you as his brother, an honor I have never seen him bestow even on the friends he's had since childhood. My son seems to think very highly of you, and I trust his judgment," Lucius declared evenly. "I'll leave you two to explore your labs, I must go and see to some work, so that I might enjoy the remainder of the evening." With a nod and a wave of farewell, he left student and teacher alone, closing the door behind him.

Harry turned and began walking around the room. "I didn't really have much hope before, but I think we might actually be able to prove that Defense Master's theory with this lab at our disposal. I'm actually really excited about this," Harry asserted, picking up one of the cauldrons at the back to study it. "What do you think, Professor?" He looked over his shoulder at the Potions Master, grinning.

"It's more than adequate, Harry, for our purposes, but what I think isn't important, this is your project, I'm only helping you," Snape pointed out.

Harry frowned and turned to face the man completely, forgetting the cauldron in his hands for a moment. "You're doing more than that, you've taken on the impossible portion of the entire thing: the chemistry. I could never have even approached this as more than theory if you hadn't offered your assistance, and when we succeed, I'll be sure the world knows it. You're too modest, Sir, really. Unless you decide to drop out of it, this is _our_ project, and your opinion matters just as much as mine."

Snape stepped further into the room, looking around at the high walls and into the open lab. He stopped just in front of Harry, pressing against the cauldron in the shorter wizards arms. "I think it's perfect, Harry. Thank you for sharing this project with me."

Harry blushed as he turned to put the cauldron back on the shelf. "If you have no objections, I thought we could start tomorrow, after lunch. Maybe lay out a schedule of days we'll work on this, days dedicated to training, and days off so you can work on your potions and things, yeah? I realize there isn't much work I'll be able to do just yet, not until you've gotten somewhere on the chemistry bit, but I can use this space to research how best to introduce the failsafe, or maybe a couple of them to be sure. And also study cauldron modification a little more, since the stuff you could teach me at school was rudimentary, Professor."

"That sounds like a good plan, Mister Potter. I'll owl Professor Dumbledore tonight to see if he can send us some texts on Alchemy that might help, since we'll be working very close to the line that separates magic and science," Snape conceded. The two men shared a look of vaguely bilious anticipation of the task they were about to undertake.

SSHPSSHPSSHP

Three weeks passed with Harry working closely with Severus almost daily on their project or training. They had divided up the week, giving them a day to pursue other interests away from the lab, as well as a few hours each day, but found themselves more and more in each other's company for lively discussion during these breaks, often joined by Lucius or Draco, or both. Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, Harry never seemed to get more than a few minutes with his godfather before something drew the man's attention away. Finally, after another week of this same pattern, he and Severus had reached a standstill on their research, and agreed to return to it the following day, rather than continue to beat their heads against the wall. Harry, deciding enough was enough, went to seek out his godfather. He found him just as the man was leaving the private drawing room on the first floor.

"Hey, Remus, can we talk?"

The werewolf smiled, but again looked guilty. "Sure, Harry, but can it wait? I promised Draco I'd meet him in the library so he could show me the new charm he learned." He said, walking down the corridor and passing Harry by with a pat on the shoulder.

Harry growled and turned, suddenly fed up with being brushed aside. "Why is he more important than I am?!" He demanded loudly.

Remus stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "Harry, Draco isn't-"

"Yes he is, Remus!" Harry interrupted. "A whole damn month I've been here and every time we get a chance to spend some time together, you've got to meet Draco for something. And it's not just promises, either, you'll brush me off just because you want to show him something interesting, or teach him a new technique you learned from one of your books. You don't even ask if I want to join you, you just walk off!"

Remus seemed taken aback. "I'm sorry, Harry, I hadn't realized…you've just been so busy lately, I didn't think you'd be interested in any of the things Draco and I had been doing, what with yours and Severus' project."

"Do you even know what we're working on?!" Harry asked, his voice carrying along the corridor. Remus opened his mouth, but stopped short and looked at the ground ashamedly. "You never even bothered to ask! Even on the days I'm completely free, not training or working in the lab, you don't try to spend time with me! So tell me, why is Draco more important than I am!?"

"Harry, I think you're overreacting. I'll grant that I haven't spent as much time with you as I probably could have, but with you so busy all the time I didn't think there was any harm. I promise, I'll spend some time with you tomorrow, but right now I promised Draco I'd meet him." The werewolf started to turn, causing Harry to scream without thinking.

"But you're _my_ dad!" The werewolf froze midstride, and Harry's heart skipped a beat at the admission, but he continued, this time in a quieter tone as he brushed away the angry tears streaming down his cheeks. "You said when I got here that you were going to be there when I needed to talk to you, but I haven't even had a chance to really talk to you about your relationship with Lucius because you've been so busy spending time with my best friend."

The werewolf turned back. "Harry, I-"

"Just forget it," Harry murmured despondently. He turned and ran down the corridor towards the rooms Lucius had given him.

Harry sat on the fur rug in front of his blazing fireplace. He had long since moved the coffee table against the back wall, preferring to relax on the plush fur instead of the thinly cushioned couch, and sat now with his knees pulled up to his chest, cheek resting on the bony platform they created. He didn't look up as the door to his rooms opened, nor when he heard someone join him on the rug and lean against the couch with him.

"How long have you thought of Lupin as your father?" Came the soft, gravelly voice of his professor.

Harry shrugged, still refusing to move his head. "Third Year, I guess, when he rescued me from you in the corridor that night. I didn't really think of him as my dad, I just thought he made a good father-figure: playful, but responsible. Then last year, when Sirius signed over guardianship, I couldn't make myself be mad at him. I couldn't understand it, I was mad at everyone else for Sirius' betrayal, especially you for goading him so much about how poorly I was looked after, but I just couldn't be mad at Remus. I realized last summer that it was because it's impossible to hate your own dad for trying to save your life. Then I was mad at myself for a couple of days for thinking of Remus as my dad, for betraying James like that, before I realized that James would probably be really happy that I had found someone to look up to in that way. I wanted to tell him whenever he visited me in the Hospital Wing last term, but I was worried he'd think I was just being foolish."

"You're not foolish, Harry, I'm sure Remus is honored that you feel that way," Snape assured him.

Harry shrugged again. "Why should he? I just screamed at him in a corridor, loud enough for the two people he's hoping to make his family to hear. I'm sure he's glad I'm _not_ his son, since I'd be such an embarrassment." He started when a strong arm pulled him sideways into a firm chest, but relaxed as a gentle hand carted through his hair.

"Well, that certainly wasn't the behavior of a young man who'll be a legal adult in just a couple of days, but I wouldn't say it was enough for Remus to turn you away as such," Severus soothed. "Just give him a little time."

Harry groaned and wrapped his arms around his friend's midriff. "Why does it always come down to time? I feel like I always have to wait for something."

Severus chuckled. "Well, it usually works, doesn't it? You _waited_ for me to give you use of my name, and I did, you _waited_ for the results that have gotten us this far on the thus unnamed project, and how much progress have you made on forgetting Drake?"

"Mostly forgotten, and when I do think about him, it's just with a passing fancy over the original reason I had a thing for him, his body," Harry admitted. "So okay, waiting works…that doesn't make it suck any less. Why does everything have to be so complicated?" He shifted his body so that he was leaning more comfortably against the taller man, placing his head on the black clad shoulder. "At least this won't get complicated until we get back to the school."

Severus hummed as he held the younger wizard close, tightening his hold. "Harry, I-"

"What the hell is this!?"

Harry started and sat up in time to see Remus storm out of the room. "Bleeding hell, I'm a walking jinx." He murmured. "I should go talk to him. Stay here? I'm probably going to need your shoulder to cry on when I get back."

Snape nodded. "As you wish, Harry."

The Boy-Who-Lived gave the man a grateful smile before taking off after his godfather. "Remus, wait!"

The werewolf spun around angrily and started to walk back towards him. "What were you thinking, Harry?" The man demanded, spitting out each word. "He is your teacher! How could you allow this to happen after Drake?"

Harry faltered as though he'd been slapped. "Don't dare compare my friendship with Severus to my false feelings for Drake. This is nothing like-"

"Isn't it?!" Remus interrupted loudly. "Behaving just as foolishly, allowing your emotions to get the best of you, blindly following your hormones to fulfill your basic teenager need to shag, the consequences be damned! It all sounds exactly like what happened with Drake! Just as stupid and thoughtless!"

Harry felt tears begin to form as his throat tightened. "Why don't you tell me what you really think, Remus?" He spat sarcastically. "I am not _sleeping_ with Severus Snape. He is my friend, and nothing more! I made a mistake with Drake, and I paid for it with my position as a student-teacher, do you really think I'd be so stupid as to make that mistake again, and with a man whose respect means everything to me? I wasn't born yesterday, Moony!"

"I saw you, Harry! He was-"

"Holding me, attempting to offer some form of comfort after you just stood there and said nothing when I called you 'Dad', doing what you should have been doing since I got here! He, unlike you, has been there to talk to me and comfort me after the devastation I felt from Drake's rejection-"

"Harry-"

"_Without_," Harry continued, speaking over his godfather's attempt to reconcile. "Judgment, or accusations. I can't believe I've considered you the closest thing I'll ever have to a real father, when all this time you've apparently thought I was a joke! Well I hope you've had a good laugh about what happened with Drake. Hell, maybe you can share the joke with your would-be stepson." He turned on his heel. "I've had enough of this, I'm out of here."

"Harry, wait, I'm sorry!"

Harry kept walking down the corridor. "Tell it to someone who cares."

The Welsh sun beat down heavily on Harry's head as he wandered aimlessly across the vast lawn sprawled before Malfoy Manor, avoiding the pathways that were lined by the lush foliage that was typically intended to keep unwanted visitors from walking on the grass. Lucius had explained that there were spells set up along the gravel walkways designed to alert him to uninvited visitors, as anyone uninvited would be forced to apparate there. Since being found was the opposite of what Harry wanted, he walked along the hedges, seeking out a place of solitude to breathe. The disappointment and anger in Remus' voice when he'd spoken about Drake and Severus had stabbed at Harry's heart, and even now he could feel the words branding themselves in his mind forever. He couldn't believe how his godfather felt about his actions around Drake. He had received so much support and sympathy for everything that had happened, and suddenly having the man, who had seemed to be just as understanding, throw it in his face…

Harry choked back a sob as the tears he thought had dried began to flow anew, and flopped down onto the grass where he stood. He knew how foolish he'd been with Drake, felt it every time he recalled his actions and behavior, but to have someone say it, to scream it, and then accuse him of performing the same folly again…and for that someone to be his godfather- it caused an unquantifiable ache in his chest. For the second time that day, Harry curled into a ball as he heard footsteps approach.

"Harry…"

"Why are you always the one to find me? Even when I was a first year, you always seemed to know where I was, or where I'd be, almost without fail. Why you?"

"Back then, I just had to think where you would cause the most trouble," Snape said lightly, making Harry chuckle despite himself. "And now," The Potions Master continued, sitting on the soft grass. "You're my friend, it's my job to know how to find you. I heard what Lupin said."

Harry scoffed. "Said? He did nothing short of shout accusations at me, Severus. I know how stupid everything with Drake was, I'm not so adolescent as to ignore a mistake of that caliber! And then he accuses me of-of doing the same with you, with _escalation_ to an actual relationship? Everyone else is trying to help me forget my mistake, help me move on, but Remus-"

"Uses your poor judgment against you, as if that one mistake defines everything beyond it." Severus interrupted, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulder. "I know it's hard, but try for a moment to look at it from his point of view. He's trying to be a father to you, as well as impress upon Draco and Lucius that he's worth keeping around, and because his attentions are so vastly split, he was forced to choose. It hurts to hear it, I know, but Remus, much as Black did before he signed away his guardianship, is basing his knowledge of you off of your past behavior."

The boy frowned. "But…my behavior up until now, while not ideal, has always held merit…discounting my fights with Draco, and those have been resolved _by_ us. On top of that, my behavior in the last year alone should more than prove my maturation, even with the Drake fiasco. Are you telling me that, no matter what I do, Remus will always consider me as, what? A troublemaker, a-a thoughtless child who doesn't care about consequences?"

"I know it's hard to swallow, Harry-"

"Hard to swallow?!" Harry rejoined angrily, pushing himself to his feet. "I'm being judged by a man I've considered a father practically since the day we met, and for what, _because_ of what? Because I did what I thought I had to do to save people's lives? Because the way I was raised led me to distrust the adults around me; because _he_ hasn't bothered to actually try and get to know the child currently under his guardianship rather than the one who _might_ be _someday_?"

"Harry, Draco never intended-"

"Draco isn't my problem, he's one of my closest friends, I think of him like a brother, but Remus…I see my best friend and _his_ father more than I see my own. Tell me how that is in any sense my fault? Explain to me how a man who has never bothered to get to know me, despite being sympathetic towards me in the past, can even begin to make assumptions about my life," Harry demanded.

Severus sighed and moved to his feet as well. "I can't, Harry. I had thought to come out here and help you understand, but I can't. There is no excusing your godfather's behavior, I'm sorry."

Harry sighed as tears rolled down his cheeks, forcing a humorless smile as he nodded. "Yeah… yeah." He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes in annoyance at his own weakness. "So…so I still can't trust adults, is that what I'm to take away from all of this?"

"No, Harry!" Severus said earnestly, stepping forward and pulling the younger man into a hug that was immediately returned. "Don't let the few ruin you for the rest. There are plenty of people who deserve your trust, and who would give it the value it deserves as well. I'm sorry that the men you chose to place that trust in first have disused it, even defenestrated it, but I beg you not to do as I did and hold it against the rest of the world."

Harry sighed into the man's shoulder as he was held close. "I turn 17 in two days, Severus, I don't want any of this…all I ever wanted was to be normal, but now that I have it, I'd almost prefer what I was dealing with before. At least back then I knew who my friends were. Everything is turned upside down. Even when I was student-teaching, I had something to focus on, something to throw myself into, and now I won't even have that when school starts back. What am I going to do?"

Severus rubbed a hand over Harry's back soothingly. "I was saving this for your birthday, but I arranged with Albus to have you help me with my classes when we return to the school. It will only be first through fourth year classes, but he personally arranged your schedule for the upcoming year so that you might be able to assist me. It means that you will receive private tutoring for some of your classes during the week, because you won't be able to attend with your classmates…or, Albus gave me the schedule yesterday. You can take the NEWTs for the classes you'll miss whenever you think you're ready to. You don't have to accept, of course, nothing is official until the lesson plans are due a week before term starts. You should be aware, I asked that you be removed from my class in the case you accept, to prevent unnecessary attention towards our relationship. You'd have to take the NEWT or be tutored by a guest Master I invited for the purpose."

Harry pulled back slightly. "Why would you go to so much trouble? _When_ did you go to so much trouble?"

"That, Mister Potter, you will never know. You don't have to decide right away, but I thought you could use some good news. And of course, whatever you decide, we will continue our research."

Harry grinned past the drying tears and moved his hands from Severus' back to his chest, pattering his fingers lightly as he stared at the buttons of the white shirt. "You are…" He looked up into the black orbs. "Incredible. If everyone could see this side of you, how much you are capable of caring about others I…well I guess I wouldn't see you anymore."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Oh, how so?"

Harry frowned. "Well, I am still Harry Potter. If other students knew what you could offer in a personal relationship, especially your Slytherins? Well, they'd come first wouldn't they, your time would go to them before me?"

"No, Harry…I can't imagine that would ever happen. You're more than my student, you're my friend," Severus insisted, pulling the younger man back into the encompassing strength of his arms. "I care about you, Harry, and for months now I have made every effort to put you ahead of others. That's why I requested to have you placed as my student-teacher. I can see your mind working, stop it. I am not favoring you in an unwarranted manner, I am…I'm giving you opportunities you deserve, because I- because I have the means and inclination to do so. I can help dozens of other students, just as bright, just as talented, including some of my own Slytherins, but because I know you, because I care for you, I _choose_ to help you. You, and only you, come first, Harry."

"Why?" Harry breathed in confusion. He felt his friend shrug against his cheek.

"Because I said so, Mister Potter, and that is all you need to know for now."

Harry sighed, nodding. He would have to learn to accept that trusting someone fully as he did this man, a man who had no qualms towards comforting him in the midst of the gardens where anyone could see, meant that he had to trust that secrets were kept for a reason. Much like he had when Draco had kept from him the relationship between their guardians, he accepted that some things had to wait to be revealed.

"Can we go to the Ministry today?"

Severus chuckled, his chest rumbling against Harry's hands and cheek. "I had thought you might say that, you've done really well with furthering your studies this Summer. I flooed the administrator of the testing department, and he expects us in an hour. If you have no objection, I thought I would take you to dinner afterwards, to celebrate your decision, and very probably your results."

Harry smiled up at his professor. "You've got yourself a deal, Professor Snape."


	5. Chapter 5

Harry stumbled when they landed in the sitting room, both of them snickering. "Did you see her face? I don't think I've ever seen my aunt turn so red!" Harry blurted, collapsing onto the couch in laughter.

Severus chuckled. "I did once, when we were children and your mother said she was a 'jealous fuddy duddy with no magical inclination' in the Summer of our third year. She was very angry with us." He leaned over and grabbed his student's hand, pulling him up from the couch. "My good Lord Potter, you certainly know how to have an interesting evening. And I must admit to being amazed by your sophisticated behavior. You must remind me to thank Lady Longbottom for teaching you manners befitting a young lord."

Harry laughed and grinned, bowing as Severus held onto his hand. "Well thank you, Professor Snape, for giving me such a lovely time. I'm sorry running into my relatives almost ruined it." Snape bowed as well and they came up laughing harder than before.

"Where in the hell have you been?!"

Harry sobered immediately and turned, startled, to see Remus coming into the room. "Moony…We were, you know, out."

"Out?!" Lupin demanded. "You have been gone for six hours, Harry! I was worried sick!"

Harry scoffed. "I'm surprised you even noticed. Was Draco busy?"

"That's not fair, Harry, I told you-"

"Yeah," Harry interrupted. "You told me. You told me exactly how busy _I've_ been, completely ignoring how every time I go out of my way to try and talk to you _you're_ too busy. And then you had the nerve to 'tell' me who I am, as if you have any idea!" He stepped forward angrily, and his magic could be felt swirling around the room. A hand fell comfortingly on his arm, and he glanced back to see Severus seated on the edge of the arm of the couch, simulating deep breaths. He nodded and took three deep breaths. "I won't argue with you, Remus, I don't imagine a lifetime of doing so would change your mind when it doesn't want to be, but the fact is, you don't know me, and never have." Harry said calmly, looking at his godfather.

"Maybe you want to, or did at some point, but right now? You see me as you saw James, a boy who means well but likes to cause trouble and needs to grow up. You haven't got any idea how much I've grown up since I found out I was a wizard, let alone since I first met you, and you certainly have no right to compare my school life with that of my father's. In every case, and I do mean _every_ case, I thought I was doing what was in the best interest of those around me. My father could never have even tried to claim the same. Sirius made the same mistake, comparing me to James, and I wound up here. I turn 17 in two days, and if you continue in this strain, I won't even be here that long. Now, I've had a long, mentally taxing day, and if you don't mind terribly, I'm going to bed." The young man turned to Severus. "Thank you for today, Severus, I appreciate it more than you can know." He turned away with a soft smile for the Potions Master and left the room.

"Good night, Harry," Severus murmured as the boy pushed past his godfather. He remained seated on the arm of the couch as Remus stood in disappointed shock.

Finally, the werewolf spoke. "What are you doing, Severus? He's your student, young enough to be your son."

The Slytherin chuckled. "You always were a piece of work, Lupin. And you're literally a dog with a bone sometimes. I can appreciate that you're trying to keep yourself from being the only bad guy here, so I'll throw you a new bone to chew on. We were at the ministry so Harry could take a few of his NEWTs to qualify himself as my teaching assistant, and afterwards we…" He stood and pulled a page of parchment from his pocket. "We went to dinner to celebrate." He pressed the parchment into the werewolf's chest as he walked past him towards the door.

"Wait, he passed?" Remus asked, rounding on his heel to watch the man leave.

Severus stopped in the doorway and nodded to the scroll in Remus' hand. "He did more than that." He walked out, leaving Lupin alone in the sitting room.

The werewolf unrolled the scroll in his hands and swooned slightly at the writing there. Before him in black and off-white was a list of E's for nearly every NEWT required to graduate from Hogwarts. Not even Lily, nor himself, had managed an E in more than two-thirds of their NEWTs, and they had had a year to study, whereas Harry was still technically a sixth year. He had seriously underestimated his godson, and he had no idea how to begin making up for it.

SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHP

Harry awoke on the morning of his birthday to a soft rapping on the door of his suite. He sat up with a groan, his book on cauldron composition slipping off of his chest onto the floor. He stretched his back, feeling a satisfying crack somewhere in the middle of his spine.

"Come in," He rasped, his voice laden with sleep as he rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

The door opened to admit Remus carrying a tray of what smelled like breakfast. "I wouldn't normally recommend sleeping on the couch, Harry, but it seems like it might be more comfortable than the floor in front of it. Then again, one might also prefer the bed, as it is the healthiest option. I've noticed you haven't really been sleeping." The wolf lectured.

Harry scoffed as he rubbed his face, trying to get rid of the sleep. "Wonder when you found time to notice that…" He muttered. "It's really a little early to argue, Remus."

"Which is why I'm here to apologize," The werewolf said, sitting on the floor beside the younger wizard and setting the tray in front of him. "I had Dobby help me cook up your favorite breakfast. He wound up doing most of the cooking, as I burn toast, but…"

Harry sighed and leaned back against the front of his couch. "What do you want, Remus?"

The werewolf sighed as well. "Like I said, I want to apologize. You were right, Harry, about everything. But, well…I didn't find out you were student-teaching under Drake until Albus told me a few weeks after you started. You didn't come to me when you were struggling with your feelings for Drake…you didn't go to anyone, really, but even afterwards you went to Severus, and Draco, and Albus…but again I had to find out from Albus in the aftermath. I think I unconsciously chose to ignore you in favor of spending time with Draco because…he needs me and you don't. You never have. I was also ignoring the reason _why_ you don't need me. I've known for a long time that you had the mind of an adult, that the weight that was placed on your shoulders took away any chance you had at a childhood, but…I guess I just wanted so desperately to believe that you were a carefree adolescent that I made parallels between you and James that simply don't exist in reality. I am truly sorry, Harry, for my behavior thus far this summer and most especially for not taking an interest in what you've been doing while I was off playing dad to someone else's kid."

Harry smiled at the man. "Well, hopefully your own kid in a year or two, if you play your cards right."

Remus elbowed him playfully. "Smartass. That, I happen to know, you inherited from your mother. Your father was much more blunt in his approach to everything. I _am_ proud of you, Harry, and more proud than you can imagine that you considered me a father for so long. I hope that someday I can make up for neglecting my responsibilities in that regard, but for now I think you should eat your breakfast and come downstairs. Your birthday party starts in a few hours, and we would _all_ like to spend time with you beforehand, if that's all right."

Harry nodded and pulled the tray of food towards him. "Yeah, I'll be down in 20 minutes, a half hour at most. Give me time to shower, change…all that special morning ritual stuff." Remus chuckled when Harry grinned at him and ruffled the black, sleep-mussed hair before getting up to leave the room. "And, Remus," The werewolf turned back to look at him. "Thanks for trying to understand. For our first ever father-son fight, I think we did rather well."

The former professor smiled at him. "Yes, I think we did…but I'm a little old for my son to be teaching me life lessons. Next time, maybe I'll just ground you."

Harry chuckled when his godfather winked at him playfully. "Go wait downstairs, _Dad_, I'll be down when I've finished eating." With a final chuckle, Remus left the room, closing the door behind him. Harry sighed in relief as the heavy footfalls disappeared down the hall. He turned as the door to his guest room opened to allow Severus Snape out into the sitting area.

"I told you he would come around," The man said nonchalantly.

Harry chuckled with relief. "Yeah…Merlin, I'm glad you've got quick reflexes. I thought I was done for when Remus came in. I can't believe we fell asleep on the floor when we were researching last night. How late were we up?"

Severus came over and began to pick from the tray in Harry's lap. "I believe you were awake longer than I was. I recall waking momentarily to answer some question you posed to me, and the sky was already beginning to turn gray."

"Oh, yeah…"Harry murmured, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of toast. "I was only about half-awake at that point, but I remember asking you if we could combine the different components of a copper cauldron with a pewter one to give our potion a more stable atomic base, and you muttered something back about the weight of a penny versus that of a frying pan."

Severus chuckled and picked a handful of grapes off of the tray, avoiding the swatting hand that tried to stop him. "That, Mister Potter, is the best one can expect from a sleep-deprived Potions Master when he's dreaming about nonsense. You should eat more than toast, Harry, you're going to have a long day ahead of you."

Harry groaned and put the tray on the floor. "Don't remind me, Draco has been regaling me with tales of what his father did for his birthday, and Lucius has made it clear that he has planned something similar. I only wanted something small, with my friends and my new family, and Lucius is making it sound like it's going to be a spectacle for the ages."

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll have a few hours with your family, and me, before the spectacle begins. That might be enough time to adjust to the idea of whatever Lucius has planned, and if need be…I spelled the lab last night so that only you and I have entry. If at any time you feel overwhelmed, you can escape there to relax and breathe, or do research if you want. I will likely be spending most of the day there myself, once the festivities begin," Severus said, rubbing Harry's arm soothingly.

The wizarding savior smiled at him gratefully and stood up, stretching. "I guess I should go get ready. Help yourself to the tray; you know I don't eat when I'm stressed."

The Potions Master sighed. "I'll leave some toast for you, I expect you to eat it before you come down."

Harry laughed as he walked towards his bathroom. "Yeah, sure."

"Harry," Severus growled warningly.

The younger wizard turned as he reached the door to his bathroom. "Would I lie to you, Professor?" The Slytherin narrowed his eyes, making the young man chuckle. "Alright, fine, I'll eat the damn toast. Geez, you'd think you actually cared about me, the way you carry on about my health." He caught the sardonic roll of onyx eyes before he disappeared into the bathroom.

SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHP

Harry grinned as he looked into the microscope lens. It'd been a month since the term had begun, and this was the first time he and Severus had been able to get a free weekend to return to their lab. He looked over at the Potions Master, who was looking over their notes to be sure they hadn't missed anything. He rechecked the lens to be sure the results were still the same.

"It worked, the combination spell we came up with worked. The slides shows it, the cauldron is a copper-pewter base. Should we test it?" Harry asked eagerly.

Snape smirked, not looking up from the notes he was still perusing. "If you would allow me to finish making sure our science and rune work is accurate, then yes. I have no plans to blow up because one of us forgot to carry the two or left a line off of a symbol. Patience is a lifesaver, Potter, utilize it."

The wizarding hero groaned, dancing on his toes excitedly. "You've gone over the notes like ten times, Severus, nothing has changed, I promise. Come on! Three months of work and it's finally done! We actually figured out how to expand the atomic mass of the potion without changing its chemical make-up or diluting it severely!"

The Potions Master looked up with an indulgent smile. "Alright, we'll test it, Harry, but I'm warning you now, you should expect some disappointment. This is our first test, and we don't know how well the cauldron's composition will stand against the heat and runes in combination, nor how the potion will respond to your rune work. Keep in mind, we could work on this for years before we find answers to all of the variables."

"Spoilsport, just help me cast the shields in case this literally blows up in our faces, alright? I found an observation spell so we can record exactly what happens, and Lucius gave me a crystal to record it in," Harry said, pulling the crystal from his bag.

Severus smirked and helped the boy set their newly developed cauldron in the center of the rune circle on the table, lining up the runes carefully on each side. "There are a number of such spells, Harry, I could have taught you several."

"Yeah," Harry smirked, "But do your spells offer options similar to those in a pair of Omnioculars such as play-by-play?"

Severus wrinkled his prominent nose at Harry playfully, making the younger wizard chuckle as they cast the necessary spells around the ring of carved symbols, and on the orb of crystal, before the Potions Master spelled a separate cauldron to dump the previously prepared potion into the specially-crafted one. The two wizards shared a look of nervous anticipation before Harry cast the spell that would heat the cauldron to the right temperature immediately and activate the runes on and around the large vessel.

For a few moments, the potion bubbled lightly before fumes began escaping from the surface, swirling upward into an over-hanging cloud that began to slowly grow in size. Tentacles began to spread out from the cloud, wrapping around three of the nine mice placed just outside of the circle, their lacerations healing slowly and more tentacles spanning out towards the other mice. Suddenly, without warning, the potion began disappearing inside the cauldron, the healing fog swirling back into it quickly.

Harry let out a cry of surprise when he was knocked roughly to the ground just before an explosion of air erupted from the cauldron, shattering their shields and destroying anything more than three feet off the floor. When the smoke had cleared, Harry realized that he was wrapped in a protective embrace, a shield above his head protecting them from being smothered in shards of glass and metal. He felt Snape shift on top of him, bracing himself up on his elbows on either side of Harry's head.

"Are you alright?" The man asked in concern.

Harry smiled, wiggling his hand out from where it had been trapped between their bodies. He brushed away some dust from Severus' cheek. "Yeah, thanks to you. What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, Harry, I'll be fine. I wasn't thinking when I shoved you down, and you landed pretty hard. Do you have any pain at all?" Snape furrowed his brow in concern as he ran a hand over the younger wizard's hair, searching his head for bumps or blood.

Harry chuckled, coughing lightly at the dust in the air. "I'm fine, Severus, I promise." He grabbed the searching fingers and pressed them against his cheek. "See, still warm, means I'm still alive, thanks to you. How long do you think until Lucius and Remus find us?"

Snape looked around at the shield, seeing that it was completely buried in rubble because of the shelves they'd landed under. He shrugged. "A few minutes, maybe longer if the blast blocked the door. Are you sure you're alright?"

Harry laughed again. "Besides the fact that you're crushing my sternum, yeah, Sev, I'm fine, and you're paranoid."

The Potions Master began shifting around and wound up leaning forward on his elbows and knees, giving Harry a few centimeters to breathe, but moving their faces closer together, only an inch apart.

Harry blushed. "Um, thanks…I don't want to make you uncomfortable, though. Your knees, and your elbows…plus, I'm sure my breath doesn't smell great."

"You're fine," Severus murmured, rubbing his thumb over Harry's cheekbone. Black stared into green for a long, tense moment. "Harry, I…" He trailed off, an unidentifiable emotion flickering in his eyes, and began to lean forward slightly.

"Harry? Severus!" The muffled shout, followed by a cough, drew both men's attention.

"We're here!" Harry cried, making Severus flinch. His blush deepened as he looked back at the man. "Sorry…"

The sound of shifting rubble grew louder, and soon light began to filter in through the shield. Harry chuckled with relief, as more and more of the rubble came off of the shield, and dirt-smudged faces appeared in the filtering light. Finally, enough of the rubble had been removed that the shield could dissolve safely, and the two men were helped to their feet by their rescuers.

"You see, Severus, this is why I never let you have a lab here," Lucius joked.

Harry coughed, smiling over at the Potions Master. "This was my fault," He demurred, winking at his comrade. "I convinced Severus that we were ready for tests. I'm sorry, Lucius. How much did the blast get?"

"Just this lab, the potions area was untouched," Remus answered, not pausing as he looked over his godson's body for any sign of injury.

Finally, having had enough, Harry pushed the man's hands away. "Remus, I'm fine, Severus pushed me to the ground just before the explosion. Worst I've got is some minor dust inhalation from what got inside the shield."

He saw Remus look at the Potions Master with an unreadable gaze, something passing between them, but before he could question the strange tension, he was being led out of the room by Lucius. "Let's get you cleaned up, Harry. Remus can help Severus search for anything salvageable, and I'm sure Draco's got some clothes somewhere that will fit you."

Harry looked over his shoulder as he was being led from the wreckage of the lab, seeing Remus begin to advance on Severus, who had his hands raised in a defensive posture. He lost sight of the two men quickly, though, as Lucius pushed him out of the secondary lab and further into the manor.


	6. Chapter 6

The explosion of the lab had set their research to a standstill for weeks. In the meantime, Harry had been forced to step up in Severus' classroom. The Potions Master had lied when he'd told Harry he was fine, and had actually had a small shard of the cauldron lodged shallowly in his back. Thanks to the potion residue, and the way their experiment had enhanced said potion, the wound had healed around the shard. Poppy had spent several hours having to dig the piece out manually, but because of the way they'd manipulated the metal it had dissolved into his system and he'd been put on four days bed rest while different potions worked the particles out of his system. Lucius had been kind enough to volunteer to teach Severus' 5th through 7th year classes until he'd recovered, but that had left Harry to take over the classes that he had only been student-teaching for a little over a month. He was pretty sure he'd have wound up killing one of the kids if Severus hadn't let him stay in his quarters for the few days of forced vacation. The reprieve from the student population, plus their talks and laughter, were a gift at the end of the day.

Harry studied the long scar along the pale shoulder blade, running his fingers gently over the marred skin. "I really am sorry, Severus," He murmured. "If I hadn't insisted on pushing forward with the experiment…"

"You say that every night, Harry, every time I ask you to check it," Snape chuckled, leaning back as he pulled his shirt back over his shoulder. He left it unbuttoned as he relaxed into his armchair, and Harry moved to his own seat. "It's just another scar, Potter, one of many."

The younger wizard sighed, leaning forward in his seat. "I know, I just feel bad. Are you looking forward to returning to your classes tomorrow?" Snape raised an eyebrow at him as if he were insane, making Harry chuckle. "Alright, I get it, but are you at least looking forward to getting out of your rooms? I can't imagine it's been fun, being stuck in here with only me for company."

Severus smirked. "Whilst I will certainly not miss Poppy's visits, I must admit: I will miss your company immensely.

Harry blushed at the pointed look, though the meaning behind it was cloudy. "I'm sure you'll be glad to have your solitude back," He demurred lightly.

"No, Harry, do not underestimate what your presence has meant to me these last few days. You have been like a light in these normally dark dungeon rooms," The Potions Master insisted.

Harry's blush deepened. "Er…Thanks, I guess. Do you want to play chess? We haven't played since the accident." He stood without waiting for an answer, going to the shelf where Severus kept his board.

"No, Harry, wait-"

Harry pulled the board off of the shelf. "Severus…what?" He reached back onto the shelf and withdrew his hand, turning to see the Potions Master smiling shyly right behind him. "Where did you find it? You said it was destroyed."

"It was," Snape murmured, taking the crystal from Harry's hand. "I reconstructed it. I had to do something constructive with my time trapped in my rooms, and I had wanted to surprise you when we started back on our research in a few days."

"Severus…" Harry looked up into the black eyes in awe. "You're incredible. This must've taken hours, piecing together not only the crystal, but the images within. Did you look at it? Did you see the problem?"

Severus smirked and led the younger wizard back to the fire. "I did." They retook their seats and the Slytherin held up the crystal orb. "Would you like to see?" Harry nodded enthusiastically, and Snape activated the spell. Between them, a ghostly image began to develop, and soon they saw the clear picture of the specialty cauldron just as the potion was being poured in.

Harry scooted to the edge of his seat. "I think the problem started here," he muttered, pointing towards a rune near the lip of the cauldron. "It's not glowing the way it's supposed to."

"I checked our notes again, that rune is for the activation of the potion," Snape replied evenly. "It's one of your fail-safes."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, that one is meant to work with the active ingredients of the potion. What if the issue is in the brewing process as well? The only reason this rune wouldn't be working right is if the active ingredients are buried."

The recorded image continued, the misty cloud rising. Harry narrowed his eyes, waiting for the pivotal moment, and gasped at what he saw just as the potion began disappearing from the cauldron. "It _isn't_ the potion," He whispered frustratedly. "My failsafe is preventing the proper ingredients from being activated, and then activating them all at once. Damn it!" He threw himself back into his armchair, frowning as the recording moved on to show the explosion. "I spent weeks researching and creating those runes, and now I have to start over!"

"No, Harry, you're missing the obvious," Snape told him calmly, setting the orb on the table as the recording became too fuzzy to see, thanks to the chipping and shattering from it being knocked to the ground. "It's the development of the potion, as you first said. We don't have to start over, we just need to come up with a new means of brewing that keeps the ingredients active, but stable."

"So we're still going back to alchemy, but we've got a good foundation?" The younger wizard said hopefully. Severus nodded, and Harry smiled just as the image between them cleared suddenly. It showed a slightly out-of-focus, cock-eyed likeness of the two when they'd been trapped under the shield. The real Harry leant forward on his seat again, watching as picture-Snape ran a thumb over Harry's cheek, his mouth moving wordlessly, an indescribable look in his eyes. Without warning, the visage vanished. Harry looked up to see Snape taking the orb away, having cut off the recording, and placed it on the mantel.

"If you want to start on the research, I'm meeting with Lucius to discuss getting the necessary materials moved here for the time being, as Poppy says I won't be cleared to experiment further for a few more weeks. I have been given _permission_," The word was sneered, making Harry smile. "To do anything not involving the actual experiment."

Harry chuckled. "Well, we won't be ready for another try for a few weeks, probably months, anyway, so I guess that works out. At worst, I'll have to develop the secondary cauldron for brewing on my own, under your supervision, but there's no saying whether we'll even reach that point for another several weeks."

The Gryffindor caught the indulgent smirk Snape sent him, and blushed, realizing he was getting overexcited. Snape retook his seat, placing his chess set on the table between them. "Now, Mister Potter, I believe at last count the score was thirty-seven wins to your two?"

Harry stuck his tongue out at the Potions Master. "Which I'm sure you handed to me," He teased. "But I'm getting better. Maybe I can beat you on my own this time."

"We shall see," Snape growled playfully. The two wizards shared a smile, and then began setting their pieces on the board.

SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHP

It was indeed several months before they could begin attempting to test their experiments again, their research together cut shorter and shorter as the school year advanced and Harry became more focused on his remaining classes. The first two behaved similarly to their original test, but had led to the ground-breaking discovery that if they recreated the potion entirely by brewing the base in the runic cauldron and adding the active ingredients in the proper order that kept them active, theoretically, the ingredients would remain useful for the duration of the process. There were only two weeks left in the term when they decided test it again, having refined the process to an incredibly small dose for the purposes of the experiment. The hope was that minimizing the potion might minimize the hellish aftermath if they failed again. In the end, the extra precautions proved necessary. While the cauldron failed to explode again, the plume of smoke didn't disperse as harmlessly as it should have, spreading to the point that it consumed the entire interior of the shield they had cast.

"Dammit!" Harry yelled, kicking the shield for all he was worth. It rebounded as though he'd hit rubber, the surface of the bubble rippling innocently. He stood for a moment simply glaring at the swirling purple fog as though that alone might change the outcome. When the mist continued to move slowly on the inside, he kicked the shield again for good measure and then stormed out, grabbing the bag of record crystals on his way out. He feigned ignorance when Severus tried to call him back.

For the next few hours, he holed himself up in his room at the manor, ignoring the pleas of the three men at his door, going over every second of footage, trying to find what had gone wrong. When he was no closer on the seventh run through of their first disastrous attempt, he slumped to the ground in his sitting area. The recording continued to play soundlessly as he buried his head in his hands. He heard the door to his suite open and turned to glare at the intruder.

"I'm not in the mood, Severus, there's a reason I put so many damn wards on the door," He snarled, curling into a ball against the front of his couch. Snape was not deterred and quietly sat beside him on the cold floor. "We're never going to get this right."

Still, Snape didn't speak, simply laying his hand on a stiff shoulder. "We'll figure it out, Harry. I thought Gryffindor's were more stubborn?"

"Fuck being a Gryffindor," Harry muttered darkly, staring at the projected explosion from the crystal. He waved his wand and sped through the hazy part, and the moments when they'd been pinned under the wreckage, hoping that something in the aftermath would be a clue to what they were missing. It was a pointless endeavor he'd never bothered with before, knowing the rest of the video was barely visible. He stared with narrowed eyes as a grainy image of Severus backing away from Lupin appeared, and slowed the recording to play normally. "What the hell?" He watched uncertainly as Remus yelled soundlessly at the Potions Master.

Snape drew his attention. "It was nothing, Harry. Remus was simply demanding to know what had happened, and why we'd wound up pinned."

Harry glared at the lie. Remus wouldn't have been yelling, not allowing the Potions Master to speak, if he'd been trying to glean information about the accident. He watched the gritty image of the Potions Master speak, and suddenly, there was sound, broken though it was.

"-Can't control him, Remus!"

"I don't want to control him, I want to protect him from greasy, jaded bastards who would take advantage of him! You're his teacher, Snape!"

Harry leaned forward curiously.

"I'm his friend! There's nothing going on between us!"

"But you want there to be, Sni-"

The grainy footage and sound cut off rapidly, and Harry turned to see Snape, wand in hand, glaring bitterly at the crystal. "Stupid wolf," He muttered savagely, re-holstering his wand. He looked away, refusing to meet Harry's eye.

Harry frowned and stood angrily. "That son of a bitch! He lied to me, and accused you behind my back!" He made to go stomping out of the room, but a hand on his wrist stopped him short. "Let me go, Severus."

"No."

The Gryffindor turned and what he saw stopped his struggling before it began. Snape looked…ashamed. "Why?"

"Because Remus was only trying to protect you from me," The Potions Master said gruffly.

Harry turned to face the man more fully. "But he was wrong!" The Slytherin flinched, but stayed silent. The teaching assistant looked at his friend more closely, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me he was wrong, Severus."

The black eyes seemed to burn internally as they swung up to meet pleading green. Silence reined in the tension-filled air. Harry slid his hand out from the grip that held it.

"Say he was wrong, Severus…Tell me that Remus was lying when he said that. Tell me that you don't really want more between us," Harry pleaded again, taking a step forward.

Again the Potions Master flinched, and his eyes were definitely burning now. "No." For a split second that seemed to stretch into an eternity, neither man dared to move or even breathe.

Harry gasped as hands flew up to grip his head, drawing him forward into a desperate kiss. He dug his fingers into the fabric covering the other man's forearms, shutting his eyes against a swell of emotion even as he started to return the kiss. His back met the wall he hadn't even noticed they'd been moving towards, and he clawed at the older wizards shoulders. He pushed Severus away when he felt a tongue swipe at the crease of his lips.

"Please, Severus, stop," He whispered, turning his head to the side. "We can't…"

"We're not doing anything wrong, Harry." The words were as desperate as the kiss had been. He leaned in for another kiss, but Harry put his hands on the thin chest, stopping him.

"Severus, I can't…" The Gryffindor choked back a sob. "I can't do this, I'm sorry."

A hand slammed into the wall by his head. It wasn't a threat, or done out of anger, it was an act of frustration, but Harry flinched all the same. "Why the hell not? The way you look at me, the fact that you _kissed back_; I know that you feel the same way." The words were whispered harshly.

Harry whimpered, trying desperately the words, any words, to explain. He opened his mouth to speak, but could only shake his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the pleading back pools in front of him. "I can't," He whispered, his voice barely there. The hand smacked the wall again, and then the weight leaning against Harry's hands was gone, the clack of heels on marble disappearing. The wizarding savior trembled on shaky legs as the door to his suite slammed shut behind Severus, and he slid down the wall, digging his knuckles into his eyes angrily, trying to fight back his tears.

SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHP

Harry sighed as he knocked on the door. The last two weeks had been one disaster after another. Following that weekend, where the tension between them had been revealed for what it was, Severus had barely spoken to him, and always with a face that betrayed no emotion. The voice that had carried so much weight once was now a river of ice down Harry's spine, and the Wizarding Savior had wept almost nightly for the friendship he missed.

It was his own fault, leaving behind childish friends to act like the adult he had thought he'd become, pulling away from them as they had from him. The support and guidance Severus had offered had been a light for him in the difficult transition, and now he could get nothing from the Potions Master besides glares, burning with hurt, betrayal, and anger, and terse communication that equated to little more than chipped ice. The 17 year old felt felt a lump form in his throat as he thought of the hurt he was causing them both.

He knocked again at the door and waited, but received only silence once more. He sighed again. "Please, Severus, I know you're in there. You can't…you can't just pretend like I don't exist outside of the classroom. The students…_I_ have to leave tomorrow on the train. We have to talk, _please_." There was silence for a few more moments before the door opened slowly.

Harry stepped inside, the door closing behind him, and turned nervously, only to have Snape stalk past him to his sitting area. "I am in no mood for your games or your excuses, Mister Potter."

The teacher's assistant bit his tongue to keep from questioning why the man had let him in, then. That would get him thrown bodily from the room, he was sure. "Severus, please listen." He murmured softly, approaching the man's armchair with crawling steps. "I know you're angry, and confused, but why does this have to ruin us? Why can't we be like we were?"

"Perhaps the werewolf was correct and I was using your friendship to get myself into your bed," The man sneered bitterly.

Harry frowned. "Don't be an ass, Severus…it's because it hurts so much to see me, to know that you can't have me, isn't it?"

The man stood angrily, rounding on him. "You dare to come here, insult me, and try to tell me how I feel, Potter? How would you know what I've gone through these last two weeks?"

Harry looked away from the questioning eyes, feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable. "Because I have felt it every second of every day since we kissed, more deeply than you can imagine," He murmured, his tone somehow apologetic. The Wizarding savior flinched as a gentle hand glided warmly against the back of his neck, the other guiding him back to stare into the black depths of the Potions Master.

"Then why, Harry, why will you not let me love you?"

The younger wizard gave a dry sob, clenching his fists together tightly over his sternum to keep from grabbing the other man and never letting go. "I'm scared. After everything with Drake, I don't trust my own feelings, especially where you're concerned. I'm so afraid they aren't real, like they weren't with him, and I…" He trailed off, lowering his eyes even as firm fingers lifted his chin slightly.

"What, Harry?" Severus prodded gently.

He looked back into the dark eyes. "I want them to be." He whispered sadly.

"Then they are," Severus murmured, running a calloused thumb over the younger wizard's smooth jawline.

"How do I know that? They seemed real enough when I was lusting after Drake, no matter how much I didn't want to be attracted to him," Harry murmured. He knew he was probably asking the impossible, but he wanted Severus to convince him that what he felt was more than just adolescent infatuation.

The cool hand moved from his neck to run through to back of his hair. "Tell me, Harry, if I were to force you from my quarters and banish you from my life forever, would you run to the Astronomy Tower and throw yourself off?"

His full bottom lip quivered with his voice as the younger wizard answered. "No…I'd be angry, and devastated, but I'd understand. I hurt you, and I can't expect you to forgive that on the off chance that my feelings are real."

"And if I told you now that I don't want a relationship with you, that I just want to take your virginity and have you at my beck and call whenever I desire your presence in my bed, what then?"

Harry scowled, not sure he liked this line of questioning. Was this what Severus had felt, simple lust? "I'd do it, most likely, for a few months at least. But I'd hate us both, you for asking it of me, and me for going along with it."

The Potion Master lowered his head slightly, so that every breath ghosted over the shell of Harry's ear. "And if I asked you to stay with me, to love me and obey me, and to let me be slave to your whims and desires in return, would you give me that power?"

The shorter wizard swallowed thickly, a single tear ghosting over his cheek. "Yes, Severus, I would give you that and more."

"Then trust me when I tell you that your feelings are no less real than mine," Snape whispered.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and started to shake his head, but when cool lips touched his, the last of his resolve broke. He reached out with fingers stiff from being locked together and grasped the front of the black robe, drawing the man closer as he deepened the kiss. This was what he wanted, damn it. If they never had sex, if they fought almost every second of every day (though the young savior hoped desperately that neither would occur), then moments like this, wrapped in the warm embrace of his savior as they demonstrated the love and passion that neither could fit into words, would be all he ever needed. He was still frightened, still worried that in time his feelings would disappear and that his happiness would go with them, but he knew he had to give it just that: time. And trust; no matter how hard, no matter the cost to his self-preservation, he had to trust in Severus, and in their love.


End file.
